5I2Final Draft, Inc. Final 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Ext. PACIFIC OCEAN - NIGHT Night. A silvery full moon over the black, churning sea... EXT. RIVERSIDE CITY COLLEGE CAMPUS - NIGHT Riverside, California October 30th, 1966 MARY SUE BAKER, a pretty, petite student of 18, carries an armful of textbooks, leaving the Riverside City College library with a friend, JULIE KASS. They chat for a moment, then part ways. Mary Sue walks to a green VW Beetle, parked near the darkening entrance to an alley. She gets in. The car wont start. She tries again, fails again, runs down the battery. Then a YOUNG MAN approaches. He appears ordinary, nondescript; we only see him from afar. He inquires whats wrong. She points to her engine, clueless. He shrugs, gestures down the alley. She gets out, and they walk away together. She seems at ease with him as they head down the alley. Then they slow down, no hurry, chatting. But, in a series of DISSOLVES, the conversation grows more heated. They argue. Finally, Mary Sue has had enough she waves him off: get lost. She storms away. 00020000039700000400391,Through the mans POV, Mary Sue walks away down the dark alley. A short-bladed knife comes into view. With military precision, the knife is expertly thrown - straight at Mary Sues back. CUT TO BLACK. A series of eerie cryptograms, strange letters and symbols, bleed in crimson some letters brightening, recombining... forming the letters ZODIAC, and then the main titles. INTERCUT black-and-white flashes of the savage attack on Mary Sue: the knife thuds into her back. She drops. Before she can release a scream, the young man is all over her - ripping the knife out, plunging it back into her chest, over and over. CLOSE UP on a piece of notepaper, scrawled in childlike letters: BAKER HAD TO DIE. THERE WILL BE MORE. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. SAN FRANCISCO STREETS/PARKS - DAY San Francisco, California 1967 The Summer of Love Kaleidoscopic stock footage of the San Francisco city scene in 00020000039700000791391,its trippy heyday: hippies, musicians, artists, hustlers, street performers, bikers, freaks. Free love and drugs all around... The first Be-In at Golden Gate Park, hippies spinning all around. Vietnam War protests, riots, racial strife. Seedy porn theatres, strip clubs. The poverty, street kids and cult acolytes of the Haight-Ashbury district, right now the center of the universe. EXT. HAIGHT-ASHBURY DISTRICT - DAY Here in the Haight, we see a man step out of a local repertory movie house; THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME is on the marquee. This man is BILL HUNTER (though his name will never be heard or spoken). Hes in his late twenties, with a stocky build and a curiously handsome face; his hair is reddish-brown, crew cut. A dark windbreaker and trousers, military-style boots. Bill drifts through the free-form madness of the city, the time, taking it in. His conservative appearance makes him the freak. 00020000068000000B2267A, EXT. FIRST PROCESS CHURCH - DAY He checks his Swiss-made Zodiac watch, pausing outside an old, decrepit coffee shop. A painted sign overhead reads: Process Church of the Final Judgment. Out walks a short, feral hippie dude with a guitar CHARLES MANSON trailed by a gaggle of rowdy, noisy teenage GIRLS. One of Charlies girls places a daisy behind Bills ear. Manson then winks at the girl, who takes Bill by the arm. MANSON GIRL Come inside... Manson smiles at Bill, and off he goes with his little harem. Charlies girl gently tries to pull Bill inside the church. Bill suddenly looks spooked, and resists her. She sees the fear in his eyes. She shrugs, smiles, and places a tab of acid on her tongue. She gently draws Bill in and kisses him deeply, passing the acid to him. When his eyes open, the girl is gone... OMITTED EXT. SAN FRANCISCO STREET - DUSK Bill heads out of town in his Chevrolet Impala, still tripping. He stops at a red light, glances over at a cute teen HIPPYCHICK on the corner, adorable and alone. The girl locks eyes with him, appearing to connect. Bill boldly leans over: BILL Whats your sign? HIPPYCHICK Aquarius. BILL Whats your name? HIPPYCHICK Um Aquarius. BILL Well, Aquarius - why dont you jump in and well take a little magic carpet ride? Aquarius sizes Bill up - his crew-cut, his surplus-store attire. Her pretty face hardens into an imperious sneer: AQUARIUS Why dont you fuck yourself, cop? I dont ride with no goddamn pig. The light turns green. Stunned, Bill drives off. INT. BILLS CAR - DUSK Bill laughs her off, or tries to. He looks disturbed, though. BILL Cop...pig. Hah! Youre the pig, 00020000051A0000119C514,you fuckin filthy little... He trails off, shaking his head clear of the ugly memory. EXT. ROUTE 80 EAST DUSK Bill is on the four-lane highway well north of San Francisco. A road sign reads VALLEJO - City Limit. INT. BILLS CAR - DUSK Bill looks around him at the passing vineyards, the quiet country roads. But due to the acid, most of his mental energy is devoted to simply keeping control of his car... He frowns, haunted by the memory of Aquarius...he cant shake her nasty sneer, her voice hissing that word: Cop. OMITTED OMITTED EXT. BILLS HOUSE - DUSK The Impala pulls into the driveway of a modest but elegant old house in the Vallejo countryside. Another car in the driveway is loaded with suitcases and a huge steamer trunk on the roof. Bill quietly lets himself into the house. INT. BILLS HOUSE - DUSK He heads down the darkened main hallway. He takes out a huge keyring, unlocks the four locks on the basement door. He hears footsteps coming down the staircase. A womans croaky voice - upper-class British accent: MOTHER (O/S) Hello, is that you? Youre back late! Bill finishes unlocking the door, slips through the door. INT. BASEMENT ROOM - DUSK Bill bolts himself in. The voice, outside: MOTHER (O/S) Well! I suppose theres no need to say goodbye to your mother. Fine. 0002000003E7000016B03E1,Bill smiles at this. MOTHER (O/S) Not as if you care, but Ill be in London for five days. Perhaps Ill see you on my return. Goodbye. Bill listens as his mothers footsteps recede...the front door opens and slams...her car starts and drives away. BILL Cunt. He heads down the stairs, into the basement, his room, his lair. Though spacious, its cluttered with all manner of junk, Bills secret things... There are hundreds of books piled everywhere: astrology, military history, weaponry, religions, the occult, biology, chemistry, taxidermy. Contemporary literature like A Clockwork Orange, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, The Crying of Lot 49, stacks of Mad magazines, porn mags, Guns & Ammo, Soldier of Fortune, Zap Comix. Movie posters of The Manchurian Candidate, The Born Losers, Point Blank, The Trip. A 16mm movie projector is set up. There are maps and charts on every wall. A telescope. A workbench, covered with gutted radios. Lastly, an extensive collection of guns and knives. 0002000003BB00001A913B5,And a record collection: ten different recordings of Gilbert & Sullivans comic operetta The Mikado. Bill selects one Mikado LP and slaps it on the turntable. The basement fills with soaring music. Bill cranks it up, flips on the TV. Skips past channels filled with the latest atrocities in Vietnam, until he finds a movie: The Sniper, a 50s noir flick about a San Francisco serial killer. Bill smiles its an old favorite. He switches on the projector, splashing an amateur porn loop against one wall. The basement has become a bizarre cacophony of overlapping noise and visuals - a virtual acid trip on its own. Comfortable now amid this multimedia explosion, Bill kicks off his Wing-Walker boots. He goes to a small fish tank; flitting around inside is a single black Japanese fighting fish. BILL Hey, Aleister. Behind the fish tank is a huge photo of infamous occultist Aleister Crowley. Bill sprinkles some fish food into the tank. 00020000073600001E46730,At last, he slumps onto his ratty bed. Theres a big astrological chart pinned to the ceiling overhead. Bill stares up at it, all the beautiful constellations... He zeroes in on the zodiac of Sagittarius, eyes narrowing. The Mikado grows louder and louder on the soundtrack: Youll find there are many wholl wed for a penny/There are lots of good fish in the sea! Bills eyes glaze over. Hes losing himself in his thoughts, imagining all the dark deeds he might be capable of...soon. SLOW DISSOLVE TO: INT. VALLEJO HARDWARE STORE - DAY Bill is at the store counter, wearing a loose blue vest as his uniform. He fills an elderly MATRONS order, rings her up at the register, places the items in a bag. Bills manner is perfectly cordial, nothing out of place or out of sorts. He smiles at the woman as she leaves. He glances at the clock - 1:00. He walks out without a word. His BOSS comes out a minute later, sees the counter deserted. He rolls his eyes, shakes his head. EXT. VALLEJO TOWN SQUARE - DAY Bill walks across the square to Terrys Restaurant, a popular greasy spoon. Some local KIDS gather outside, talking, laughing. INT. TERRYS RESTAURANT - DAY Sitting down in his regular booth, Bill breaks open the days San Francisco Chronicle. But... He keeps one eye on DANIELLE FAIRFIELD, 22, a perky and pretty young waitress. Vivacious Danielle is quite a hit with all the MEN there; she knows it and she likes it. A few local COPS sit in her section; one cop pats her ass as she sashays past. Danielle makes her way to Bill. She even smiles at him. DANIELLE Hey. Usual? BILL Uh - you know it. She winks at him as she goes - Bill blushes. Looking more confused than pleased, he noses into the newspaper. Finally, looking up, he stares at Danielle intently...but she doesnt make eye contact again. Shes busy flirting. 00020000037B00002576375,EXT. VALLEJO HARDWARE STORE - NIGHT Later - Bill closes up shop. As he locks the doors, he spies Danielle exiting Terrys, just getting off her shift. Danielle walks across the street...straight toward Bill. Bill looks around no escape. So he screws up his courage. BILL Uh, hi - Danielle. The effort gets his face flushing already. Seeing that she has him good and riled, Danielle goes for the kill: DANIELLE So...how come you never asked me out? Every other man around has. BILL You seem to take most of em up on it, too. Arent you, um - like married with a kid and all? Danielle looks a bit taken aback. She doesnt mind the challenge. DANIELLE I like to have fun. My husband doesnt seem to mind...it kinda works for both of us, I guess. Awkward pause. She stands there, losing interest. Bill speaks up: BILL Then you think you really might ...let me ask you out sometime? 00020000038D000028EB387,DANIELLE I think...I might. BILL Oh. Uh...how about Friday night? DANIELLE How about it. Bill blushes again, even worse. Danielle tosses him a little smile, gets into her car. DANIELLE Ill meet you right here. Say eight o clock? She starts her car, and off she goes. BILL Eight oclock. He just stands there, mesmerized. DISSOLVE TO: INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Friday night it is. Bill gets prepared, nervous, perspiring. His mother stomps around upstairs, stops outside his door: MOTHER (O/S) Where are you off to, then? BILL On a date, mother...fucker. He tries to laugh, to calm his sparking nerves. MOTHER (O/S) Im sorry? What did you - BILL Nothing! Just...nothing. EXT. VALLEJO DRIVE-IN THEATRE - NIGHT The big date. Big Friday night swarm of cars. The movie Targets is playing. Its the climactic scene: a crazed young sniper is blasting away at people - from behind a drive-in movie screen. 0002000003CA00002C723C4,INT. BILLS CAR - NIGHT Bill and Danielle are sitting in his Impala. Bill smirks, amused by whats happening up on the movie screen. Danielle, keeping her distance, chats away amiably: DANIELLE Ugh I mean, I like scary movies, but this thing is just...creepy. Dont you think? BILL I sorta dig it, actually. But we can go if you want. He keeps staring at the screen. Then he finally turns to look at her, smirking again. Danielle looks uneasy. DANIELLE Look - Im sorry I made us come here. Okay? I just didnt feel comfortable driving up to Mt. Diablo with you. I dont really know you, and...yknow? Bill just scowls. Danielle tries to crack the tense silence. DANIELLE So...didnt I hear you might be enrolling at the Police Academy? BILL Cmon. You serious? I detest cops. DANIELLE Well I dont! I just adore cops. I thought you knew that about me. BILL Oh, I do. I see you flirting with them every day. And I heard you do more than that with some of them. 0002000003D1000030363CB,DANIELLE Maybe I do, but thats none of your goddamn business! BILL Obviously not. Its over, clearly. Danielle takes a deep breath, fed up. DANIELLE Maybe you should just drive me home. BILL Maybe you should walk. Im sure some nice pig will pick you up along the way, princess. Danielle, shocked, barks a dry laugh. Gets out, slams the door. She turns to flip him off, then walks away. Bill almost smiles this has only confirmed all he suspected about Danielle, about womankind in general. INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT December 20th, 1968 Bill, in his dark and lonely basement room, thrashes around miserably on the bed. He chews down a handful of aspirin. His rage slowly seeping through... His throbbing head is filled with visions, flashes a dream: The sign for Lake Herman Road. A frigid winter night, full moon. A secluded spot near the old water-pumping station. A teenage COUPLE is parked, huddled together inside a steamy station wagon, making out like mad. 00020000040E00003401408,A Chevy pulls up, parks just behind them. A dark-attired FIGURE steps out, walks up to the car, keys jangling... He pulls out a .22 pistol, a flashlight taped to the barrel. He aims at the car and fires...a tire explodes. Windows shatter. The teenagers scream, trying to escape out the passenger side. First the girl - she bolts out and runs. The boy crawls out - the killer blasts him point-blank in the head. Instant death. The killer then chases the fleeing girl, mercilessly gunning her down - five shots in the back. The killer stands over the girls twitching body, turns his face up to the moon. Moonlight reflects off his horn-rimmed glasses. FADE: Bill is now deep asleep. His face is calm, placid... Close-up on his hand: all over it, spattered blood. FADE TO BLACK. EXT. LAKE HERMAN ROAD/PARKING LOT - MORNING The next morning. A phalanx of local COPS is at the crime scene: the bloody aftermath of the murders of DOUGLAS FARLEY and BETSY LYNN JACKSON. Douglas lies outside the station wagon, shot once in the head. 0002000003DD000038093D7,Betsys body is splayed about fifty feet away, shot five times in the back, a neat little circle of bullet holes. The two cops in charge: Detectives JACK LARCH and LARRY LINDGREN. Larch surveys the ashen bodies, shaking his head. LINDGREN No motive that I can see. Boys got his wallet, girls purse is intact. No robbery, no rape. LARCH Have we ever even had a straight thrill-killing in Vallejo? LINDGREN Not that I recall. LARCH Looks like we got one now. EXT. VALLEJO HARDWARE STORE - DAY Bill is outside the hardware store, sweeping up. Two cute waitresses from Terrys pass by, one saying to the other: WAITRESS #1 Danielle said the party starts around nine tonight, right? WAITRESS #2 If we wanna get in she told me its gonna be the biggest yet. Across the street, at Terrys, Danielle catches sight of Bill. She shoots a withering look at him. Then a young man - MARK MARET, 19 - comes up to her and kisses her cheek. He looks in love with her. MARK Lets party, huh? 00020000041F00003BE0419, DANIELLE Yeah, lets. Im so shook up about what happened to Doug and Betsy, I just need to get really wasted. Bill cant help but stare. Danielle winks at him, unsmiling. EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA STATE PARK - NIGHT Night: Bill, alone, lying on a grassy hillside overlooking the scenic vastness of Lake Berryessa. Hes hurt and confused and angry over Danielle - his teeth are grinding, hes close to tears. He gazes up at the twinkling night sky, thinking deep and hard. The stars begin to swirl and spiral, a blinding wheel of light... Bill is rapt, losing himself in the enveloping infinity of outer space, the stars his only true friends... INT. DANIELLES HOUSE - NIGHT Later that night: Danielles house party, in full swing. Its mostly KIDS in their teens, early twenties. Even some authentic HIPPIES are there the San Francisco scene has reached up to Vallejo by now. A nice, rowdy crowd of about forty. Danielles off-duty COP FRIENDS are there too. Hippies and cops; an odd mix. But everyone knows Danielle, and theyre all having 0002000003DA00003FF93D4,a good time. The cops even let the joints go unnoticed. One kid slyly pours something into the punchbowl - a vial. Liquid LSD. Bill quietly slips in the front door. Looks around: no Danielle. He pours some punch, keeping to himself. He tries to blend in but his square clothing marks him out of place. Enduring a few quizzical glances, he wanders around the smoky living room. INT. DANIELLES KITCHEN - NIGHT Danielle is in here with her cop clique from Terrys. But she manages to catch sight of Bill, out in the crowded living room. DANIELLE Oh Jesus, what is he doing here? COP #1 Whos that. DANIELLE Ugh! I had the worst date of my life last week with that creep. What a disaster. The bastard wouldnt even drive me home! Another off-duty cop wraps his arm around her; she kisses him. DANIELLE Lucky my knight in shining armor drove by and rescued me. COP #2 You got a whole collection of us, dont you baby? DANIELLE Yeah, but youre my favorite. This weekend, anyway. 0002000003CD000043CD3C7,COP #2 Its my duty to serve. Raucous laughter all around. Cop #1 joins in the group hug. INT. DANIELLES LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Out in the main area, Danielles husband, DAVE, cradles their baby daughter in his arms, chatting with buddies. One of them nods toward frisky Danielle and her coterie of cop boyfriends. BUDDY So that shit really doesnt bother you, Dave? I mean, shes your - DAVE It aint so bad. Thats just Dee, shes always been a busy girl. BUDDY Youre a better man than me. DAVE Plus, whens the last time I got a speeding ticket, huh? They explode laughing. Everyone here seems to be laughing. Except Bill. In a far corner of the living room, he is trying to keep a conversation alive with a bunch of stoned kids. Danielles young friend Mark Maret is among them, along with Marks older brother DREW, a bearded hippie longhair. Glancing towards the kitchen, Mark looks as irritated as Bill by Danielles thoughtless freedom with her affections. 0002000004320000479442C,Bill stands there, sweating in his windbreaker. But hes making an honest effort to speak the kids language - a mile a minute: BILL It all comes down to the sun. The eye in the sky watches over us all the hub of the cosmic wheel. Like Pink Floyd says: astronomy domine. DREW Right on. BILL It makes perfect sense, if you think about it. Twelve hours per day and night, twelve months a year twelve disciples. The sun the son of god. The light, the giver of life, he who walks on water thats the sun, see? DREW Far out. BILL And the cross is really the division of the four seasons, with Christmas the winter solstice - the birth, get it? So, Christianity is basically nothing but astrotheology. The Egyptians had it figured out 5,000 years ago. They knew everyones destiny is in the stars - the earth, sun and moon. DREW Heavy. MARK Thats cool. But, uh, you look like youre in the Marines or something how do you know all this crap? Bill is offended by this - it shows. The people around him are uneasy, especially the girls: Bill is just too creepy. 0002000003CC00004BC03C6,DREW Well, Im splitting. Im a little too stoned for all this... BILL Too stupid is what you are. Stone stupid, every goddamn one of you. Mark and the few remaining stoners ease away. MARK The hell with you, brother. Bill stomps off, stands in the corner, drinking, scowling. Mark goes to talk with Danielle in the kitchen. Bill cant handle the stares. His face contorts; the acid from the punch is taking hold. Bill realizes he knows this feeling: BILL Ah, shit, no. Ive been dosed. Ive been dosed, here... No one hears him anyway. Fighting panic, he makes his way down a hallway. Hes looking for an out, trying to avoid a freakout. BILL Control...stay in control. Rich red light emanates from an open door; Bill peeks in. A YOUNG COUPLE is inside, going at it on the bed. Bill cant look away the red light bathes him, pulls him in: INT. NORTH BEACH APARTMENT BUILDING NIGHT (FLASHBACK) Bill, a fresh-faced 21, is in his Navy uniform, tagging along 00020000040A00004F86404,behind a gang of rowdy fellow SAILORS. A group of HOOKERS with early-60s beehive hairdos leads them up the dank stairwell. One hooker, named RUBY, has Bill firmly by the hand: RUBY Youre gonna have big fun here, sailor. Just you wait. ...they step inside a red-lit apartment, decorated like an old-time bordello. Drunken debauchery, loud rock-n-roll music. Many sweltering, sweaty YOUNG MEN and GIRLS dance and make out. Some go further; one sailor/hooker duo is already hard at it in a far corner. Several other girls strip, strut around nude. Ruby hands Bill a drink, kisses him. Bill downs the drink in one swallow, and Ruby has another ready. He drinks, she dances, and pulls him into another, deeper kiss...he sways and swoons. SLAM CUT: Through Bills POV, the room is going jittery, faces wiping in and out. Traces of light trail around the swaying room, and the music starts reverberating crazily. Bill, unbeknownst to him, is now tripping on a massive dose of acid. Hes unsteady on his feet, wavering, frightened. 00020000037E0000538A378,Hes not the only one - every guy there is looking freaked out. BILL Hey...what was in that drink, lady? Whats happening to me? RUBY I put a spell on you... Ruby looks over at a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the wall. She winks. Push through the mirror - INT. NORTH BEACH APARTMENT - SAFE ROOM - NIGHT Two G-MEN in suits and ties sit looking out at the party room. One is GEORGE H. WHITE, the head of the CIAs Midnight Climax program (part of their MK-Ultra mind-control experiments). He has a cigar and brandy snifter, looking most amused by Bill. GEORGE That one guy dont look too happy. How much was in his drink, Mel? The other CIA man, MELVIN BELLI, checks a clipboard. Across the top is typed MK ULTRA: Midnight Climax/S.F. Safe House/Oct.63. BELLI Well hes a big boy. Say 900, maybe a thousand mics. GEORGE Jesus. That Ruby knows no bounds, huh? Wait - look at him go... 0002000003AE000057023A8,INT. NORTH BEACH APARTMENT - NIGHT On the other side of the one-way glass, Bill is fully freaking out. The room explodes in surreally intense colors, negative- image black and white. The walls close in...Bills perspective distorts, everyones faces melting, growing monstrous. Terrified, Bill backs into a table a lamp falls. He stumbles into a dancing couple, thrashes out his arm. Its getting scary. INT. SAFE ROOM - NIGHT A distinctly worried look crosses Georges face. GEORGE Oh man, that bastard is seriously dissociating here. Belli is furiously writing observations on his clipboard. BELLI How drunk do you think the MPs are? Could they handle him if - INT. NORTH BEACH APARTMENT - NIGHT A vicious fight suddenly breaks out. Bill smashes another sailor square in the face. He brutally smacks Ruby to the floor. INT. SAFE ROOM - NIGHT George and Belli just watch them all go at it. BELLI Should I get a Thorazine shot? 0002000003C800005AAA3C2,Just then: Bill, bursting with adrenaline, screaming like a man possessed, picks up his fellow sailor... GEORGE Uh-oh. ...and tosses the man right through the mirror! George and Belli jump back. Bill dives in after the sailor, but George is all over him. He throws Bill - loaded with government-grade acid, his mind forever blown against a wall. Then Belli and some other sailors join in, hauling Bill across the apartment. Bill is fighting them every step of the way. GEORGE Get the hell outta here, you crazy son of a bitch! One sailor kicks Bill a few times in the gut, spits on him. SAILOR Fat fuckin asshole! George and the sailors hurl Bill out the door, locking him out. SLAM CUT TO: INT. DANIELLES HOUSE - NIGHT (PRESENT) BACK TO SCENE: Danielle is frantically tugging at Bills arm. DANIELLE Okay, you need to leave. Bill snaps back to present-day reality. He jumps away from the bedroom door - the young couple in bed stares at him, spooked. 0002000006CF00005E6C6C9,Dave, Mark and a few of the cops are there, backing Danielle up. BILL Uh - Im sorry, I... DANIELLE I dont know who the hell invited you it sure wasnt me. But this is my house, so just go. Now. Her nasty tone startles Bill. Dave, Mark and the cops lead Bill down the hall, toward the back door. But hes glaring right back at Danielle on his way out. His burning eyes say it: no way has Danielle seen the last of him. EXT. DANIELLES HOUSE - NIGHT Bill is tossed out. The back door slams shut, and is locked. Bill trudges away from the house, looking up into the black sky. In tune with Bills trip, the stars spin, spiraling around and around, faster and faster the star-wheel creating a vortex of light. At the center of this vortex is the moon. Zoom in: the moon fills the frame. Within the moons bright surface, a single vast eye opens - an all-seeing eye. The eye flashes, bursts of blinding white light...CUT TO: EXT. CENTRAL VALLEJO - VARIOUS STREETS - NIGHT An explosion of red, white and blue fireworks blooms in the starry night sky. Then another, with more intense flowers of color, blotting out the summer stars. July 4th, 1969 MONTAGE: Bill drives the late-night Vallejo streets, prowling, checking out every YOUNG WOMAN walking - some are dressed in patriotic holiday colors, carrying sparklers etc. He slows down as he passes, looks them over - then speeds away whenever eye contact is made... Cruising aimlessly around Vallejo, Bill looks ultra-intense, his eyes still burning, jaw purposefully set. The Impala passes the Blue Rock Springs park entrance. Bill turns in, prowls around, scopes it out. Drives away. EXT. TERRYS RESTAURANT - NIGHT Terrys is hopping tonight. Inside, Danielle works, flirts. 0002000003D0000065353CA,Bills car sits across the street, in front of his store. Inside the car, hes smoking a joint, watching Danielles every move. (Quick-cut MONTAGE: Bill visualizes Danielle getting into her car with many different guys, and into police cruisers with various cops.) Finally, Danielle comes out, meeting Mark Maret. Shes changed out of her uniform into a festive red, white and blue blouse and slacks heading out for a date, they drive off. After a moment Bill starts his car, slowly, carefully following. EXT. BLUE ROCK SPRINGS - PARKING LOT - NIGHT Danielles 63 Corvair is parked in the dark, deserted Blue Rock Springs lot, overlooking a golf course. Inside, she and Mark are chatting. The radio plays softly. A Chevy Impala pulls in behind them, about ten feet away. The engine cuts off. The driver gets out. INT. DANIELLES CAR - NIGHT Danielle peers out the window at the man, standing by his car. She rolls her eyes, like shes been expecting this somehow. 0002000003A6000068FF3A0,MARK What? Do you know him? DANIELLE Oh, never mind. Mark cranes around to look outside. The man is now approaching very slowly; hes in dark clothes, horn-rimmed glasses, carrying a high-powered flashlight, his keyring jangling. MARK So...you do know him? DANIELLE I know a lot of people, Mark. MARK Is he a cop? DANIELLE I suppose he could be... She gets out her drivers license. Mark does the same. EXT. BLUE ROCK SPRINGS - PARKING LOT - NIGHT The dark-clad man steps to Marks side. His bright flashlight blinds Mark and Danielle, making it impossible to see his face. The man leans down slightly, looks into the car, past Mark. BILL Hi, princess. Bill fires into the car - five times. His bright flashlight, and the gun blasts, make the car glow bright red as blood and brain tissue splatter the interior. Danielle slumps against the wheel, convulsing, gushing blood. Mark clambers into the backseat, legs thrashing. 0002000003D800006C9F3D2,Bill walks away. Then Mark screams out, in pain and anger. Bill pauses, then turns and comes back. Shoots four more times, two shots each for Danielle and Mark. A bloody nightmare. Bill returns to his car. He removes his glasses; theyre spotted with blood. He gets in, drives off into the blackness. Danielle is dead, or very close. Mark kicks open his door, and rolls out onto the gravel. Attempts to crawl away. Hes shot through the face, trying to cry out for help though nothing comes out of his mouth but blood... EXT. VALLEJO STREET/PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT On a central Vallejo street, Bill steps into a phone booth and dials. He has a scrap of paper in his hand, a short script that he reads in a smooth, steady monotone: BILL I want to report a double murder. Go a mile east on Columbus Parkway, to the public park - youll find two kids in a brown car. OPERATOR (O/S) Sir, if you could just - BILL They were shot with a 9-millimeter Luger. I also killed those kids 0002000003E7000070713E1,last year. Goodbye... He hangs up. Thinks for a minute, then picks up the phone again. He dials another number. DAVE (O/S) Hello, Fairfield residence...uh, hello? Who is this? Hello - Bill holds his breath, smiles to himself. DAVE (O/S) Is that you, Dee? Bill hangs up. Keeping his cool, he walks away down the street, toward his parked Chevy. No problem. BILL Its all under control. Im in control now. Bill is amped, buzzing on an incredible, invincible high. Hes walking on air right by the Vallejo Police Department building. Stopping, he takes a dramatic Japanese-style bow. Walking on, he starts singing a tune from The Mikado, in a strong clear voice: BILL Ill charm your willing ears, with songs of lovers fears... while sympathetic tears my cheeks bedew...oh, sorrow, sorrow! He laughs, gets into his car, heads home. A good nights work. FADE TO BLACK. INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Close on a hash pipe being fired up. Bill inhales, long and slow, savoring the potent smoke. 0002000003420000745233C,Close on a needle dropping on a record. The basement fills with blasting music. No Mikado now its psychedelic acid rock. Finally, close on an article in the Vallejo Times-Herald taped to the wall: the double murder of Douglas Farley and Betsy Lynn Jackson last December; Detectives Larch and Lindgren on site. The headline: STILL NO LEADS IN LOCAL LOVERS LANE MURDER. Bill - in his T-shirt and skivvies, wielding a samurai sword - does his demented, ecstatic version of Tai-Chi around the room. His eyes are closed; hes reliving his recent moment of glory. BILL I am the God of Death...yeah. I am invincible. Soon, tired, Bill fades down into bed. He stares up at the star map on the ceiling over his bed...and then begins to hallucinate being drawn up into the stars overhead - into the cosmic wheel of the Zodiac. 00020000054C0000778E546,The moon grows a face, sinister, grinning evilly. It winks, then speaks to Bill - in a rich, mellifluous baritone: MOON It is all in the stars. The stars, the sun and I. We are above and around and in you - we will guide you. Find your slaves. Then send them to us, here, in Paradise... Bill nods, with profound understanding. MOON But first, to work - for now you must tell the world who you are. Bills face changes, setting into a stern look of purpose, of determination. He rises from bed, goes to sit at his desk. On Bills TV in the background, a ghostly image: footage of the Apollo 11 moon landing July 20th, 1969, 1:18 PM PST. With a sweep of his arm, he clears the desk of clutter - books, magazines, newspapers and everything else. He grabs a pad of custom-cut paper and a ballpoint pen, then pulls on a pair of rubber surgical gloves. BILL You will know me. But you will never know who I am... Bill rummages through the books on the floor, grabbing a few on Naval code writing. Close on other codes: the Freemasons code, the Cipher Wheel, the Witches alphabet, the Zodiac alphabet. Slowly, Bill starts drawing out a message, in all different sorts of code, mixing and matching the symbols and letters. He painstakingly ekes out the first cryptogram with his bizarre cipher code, the shapes and symbols drifting across screen - in 00020000042A00007CD4424,a series of eerie dissolves close - as Bill keeps drawing. He thinks for a beat, then sets the cryptogram aside. He begins writing a letter. A furious torrent of words spills out of him: BILL (V/O) Dear Editor: This is the murderer of the two teenagers last Christmas at Lake Herman... Close on the text of Bills letter - as he writes, his voice begins intoning the words. BILL (V/O) ...and the girl on the 4th of July near the golf course in Vallejo. EXT. BLUE ROCK SPRINGS - PARKING LOT - MORNING The inside of Danielles car is spattered with blood. She is slumped against the steering wheel, stiff, her head blown apart. Her corpse is completely covered in dark, dried blood. INT. BILLS ROOM NIGHT FLASH CUTS: Close shots of bullets loaded, the flashlight turned on. Tight on the muzzle blasts; they flash hot light on Bills face - revealing it was him that night, late last December. BILL (V/O) To prove I killed them, I shall state some facts which only I and the police know. Christmas - Brand name of ammo: Super X. Ten shots were fired... 0002000004AA000080F84A4,FLASH: Bills hand grips the trigger - superimposed with his hand gripping the pen, writing this letter. BILL (V/O) The boy was on his back, with his feet to the car. The girl was on her right side, feet to the west. EXT. BLUE ROCK SPRINGS - PARKING LOT - MORNING Detectives Larch and Lindgren stand surveying the crime scene from a distance, disgusted, as... BILL (V/O) On the 4th of July - the girl was wearing patterned slacks. ...Danielles dead body is gently loaded onto a stretcher. BILL (V/O) The boy was also shot in the knee. INT. VALLEJO HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY An intensive care room in the Vallejo hospital. Detectives Larch and Lindgren are seated beside Mark Marets bed. Mark is swathed in bandages; shot through the cheek, his head is wrapped tight. His leg and chest are also bandaged. But he is breathing. Mark is alive, barely. INT. BILLS ROOM - DAY Bill addresses three envelopes: to the San Francisco Chronicle, the San Francisco Examiner and the Vallejo Times-Herald. BILL (V/O) I want you to print this cipher on the front page of your paper... EXT. VALLEJO TOWN SQUARE - DAY Bill drops the letters in a mailbox, then crosses the square to the hardware store. 00020000072A0000859C724, EXT. VALLEJO HARDWARE STORE DAY The store is empty. Bill stands behind the counter, reading. Hes engrossed in the days Vallejo Times-Herald: front-page news of the recent Danielle Fairfield murder. BILL (V/O) In this cipher is my identity. DISSOLVE TO: INT. SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE - OFFICE - DAY A bustling, busy, noisy office at the Chronicle. One reporter, PETE WAVERLY, 35, hunches over a long table. He is poring over a strange-looking letter, intensely focused. Its a letter from Bill. A letter and a piece of bizarre code. Several other Chronicle STAFFERS gather to read over Petes shoulders. He doesnt even notice them. PAULA, another reporter, leans in closer and reads aloud: PAULA If you do not print this cipher by the afternoon of Friday 1st of August 69, I will go on a kill- rampage Friday night. I will cruise all weekend, killing lone people in the night... Now ROBIN JAKES, the Chronicles Editor-in-Chief, is there too. JAKES So what do you think? Should we publish this lunatic? PETE Do you believe what he says about going on a killing rampage if we dont? JAKES I dont know. But I dont know if we can afford not to. PETE Then I say we do it. Suddenly everyone there is speaking at once. Paula and every other reporter is shouting to make his or her voice heard. DISSOLVE TO: PETE WAVERLYS OFFICE/SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE - DAY Pete Waverly, now alone, still examines Bills letter and the complete, three-part cryptogram. San Francisco Homicide Detective DAN TOSCANA reads over Petes shoulder. Toscana, 40, has bushy black hair; he wears a bowtie, a short-sleeved dress shirt and a shoulder-strapped gun holster. PETE I heard all three code fragments have made it up to Vallejo P.D. Larch told me hes sending them to the CIA, NSA and FBI. TOSCANA Never seen anything like this one. PETE 00020000033E00008CC0338,So if its the same shooter, hes killing in different jurisdictions. TOSCANA Seems so. Too bad the departmental coordination up there is for shit. Total lack of communication, a real case-turf nightmare. PETE Napa versus Vallejo, versus god knows who else. Bunch of yahoos. TOSCANA I only hope the asshole never decides to go to work in my city. With these protestors, the chaos at S.F. State - some psycho on a thrill-kill spree is the last fuckin thing we need. On the TV in the corner: Vallejo Police Chief JAMES STARK. He is in the middle of a crowded press conference: CHIEF STARK (on TV) At this time, the Vallejo Sheriffs Department and myself are requesting that this individual send a second letter, with some more precise facts to prove that he is indeed responsible for these heinous acts of violence... 00020000037900008FF8373, INT. TERRYS RESTAURANT - DAY Bill, at Terrys for lunch, glances up in time to see Stark say this live on television. He glances around - no one else seems to be paying attention. Bill tosses a $5 bill on the table and rushes out. INT. VALLEJO HARDWARE STORE - DAY Bill bursts in, goes to the counter. His BOSS is there. BILL Uh, Im gonna take the rest of the day off if thats okay - BOSS Oh, come on. Youve missed three days, you been late for a week! Bill just stands there. Once again, the store is dead empty. BOSS You take off today, dont bother coming back. BILL I wont. He turns and walks out, never to return. EXT. VALLEJO HARDWARE STORE - DAY Bill heads to his car. Hes on air, and he wont be denied. BILL Im no ones slave...not anymore. Im growing, I can feel it - Im evolving. Evolving... CUT TO: A CLOSE-UP on the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle: 0002000003810000936B37B,The newspaper has published their portion of Bills cryptogram, as per his orders. CUT IN the front pages of the San Francisco Examiner and the Vallejo Times-Herald - they have done the same with their portions. The complete cryptogram is now out in the public eye. INT. BILLS ROOM - DAY Bill lies on his bed, covered in newspapers, hands black with newsprint. He can scarcely contain his glee at the publicity, trying to read all the papers at once, giggling like a child. He bolts up, runs across the basement to the fish tank. He slaps one of the newspapers against the glass: BILL You see this, Aleister? The front page, man! Were famous, can you believe it? Im like some kinda supervillain! He holds the paper to his chest, does an operatic spin around. The 1939 film version of The Mikado is on TV. Bill dances around the room, bellowing along to The Lord High Executioner. 000200000331000096E632B,BILL Surely, never had a male/So advent- urous a tale/Defer, defer - to the Lord High Executioner! FADE TO BLACK. INT. VALLEJO POLICE DEPARTMENT OFFICE - DAY CLOSE ON the three cryptograms, cut out of the papers, arranged in a row. Hands reach in, rearrange them one atop the other. Chief Stark, Larch, Lindgren and several other DETECTIVES pore over the ciphers, faces drawn in exhaustion. Papers, files and books are scattered around the office. Guides to naval and every other type of code are pinned up to every wall. LARCH What does it say that the CIA, the FBI and the NSA still havent been able to crack this thing? LINDGREN Either theyre all dumber than we think - or this guy is some kinda goddamn genius. CHIEF STARK Can it, you two. In the tense silence, the intercom buzzes, jolting everyone: 00020000036E00009A11368, SECRETARY (O/S) Chief Stark, theres a man on the phone a high school teacher, Fred Hardin, who says he... CHIEF STARK Yeah? Who says what? SECRETARY (O/S) Who claims hes, well, cracked the codes, sir. Should I - Everyone snaps to life again. Stark grabs up the phone. CHIEF STARK This is Chief Stark. Whatd you come up with? Aw, hell - just give it to me. We got nothing better, so shoot. Larch grabs a pen and paper. Stark nods. CHIEF STARK I like killing people because it is so much fun. Gee, thats nice. It is more fun than killing wild game in the forest, because man is the most dangerous animal of all... CLOSE-UP on the next days Chronicle: the translation of the codes. Scanning across the code characters as the strange symbols morph into letters, words, phrases, sentences: ...TO KILL SOMETHING GIVES ME THE MOST THRILLING EXPERIENCE... 00020000035000009D7934A,EXT. BILLS HOUSE DUSK Bill stands on the front porch, in his bathrobe, opening the days final edition of the Chronicle. The headline screams: CIPHER SLAYER CODES CRACKED! Bill whips open the paper and begins to read, stunned, amazed, fascinated that his clever codes were broken so soon. Elation and anger dance on his face. He whispers to himself: BILL You clever bastards...oh, are you good. But not as good as me... INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Articles and headlines are cut out, taped to the walls, which are now filling up with articles relating to Bills exploits. He stands back, thrilled at the attention hes receiving. Filled to bursting, Bill throws his head up to shout aloud - and sees the star map. CLOSE ON all the signs of the Zodiac, the grand cosmic wheel... He stops dead. Listens to the eerie silence around him. 0002000003130000A0C330D, BILL Thats it. I need a name, Aleister, right? I mean - youre a fish and you got a name. So who can I be? Background: the 1939 oldie Charlie Chan at Treasure Island is on TV (in which the killer is called Dr. Zodiac). The movie is just at its climax - onscreen, a womans voice shrieks Its Dr. Zodiac! Hes ready to strike again! This seizes Bills attention, spinning him for a loop. Its a sign. It must be. Bill stares at the TV, stunned. Then, near the TV, on his desk, Bill spots a pile of books - books titled The Zodiac, Man and the Zodiac, Mysteries of the Zodiac, among many others on the subject. By the stereo is an LP, Cosmic Sounds, by a group called...The Zodiac. And yet another, by Maurice Williams & the Zodiacs. The signs are everywhere. Bill gets it. 0002000003420000A3D033C,He glances up at the star map on the ceiling. Within the map, the moon rolls around to look him right in the eye. MOON Youve studied and prepared your entire life...youve known all along the force that guides you. The ceiling vanishes. Now there is nothing over Bills head but a dome of stars, infinite space. The moon glows, vibrates with cosmic energy, full and bright. Its facing him - smiling. Bill, astonished, glances around the basement at his charts and maps, books and records. Everywhere the word Zodiac appears, there is now a pinpoint of bright light, with Bill at the center. The room is filling with starlight, patterns, constellations... BILL I...I was born under a bad sign, wasnt I? MOON Oh, yes indeed. Your birth was a curse upon this world. Now your time has come. And you shall be known as...well? 0002000003350000A70C32F,Suddenly, through Bills POV, we blast out into space. Past the moon, into the stars right to the center of the spinning cosmic wheel. The Zodiac signs whirl by, encircling... One by one, the constellations spin and fly out of the wheel, lining up straight with the earth. All twelve Zodiac signs, now aligned between space-Bill and earth. Bill rockets through them, past them, stars whizzing by...and then hes back, standing in his room, alone. Exhilarated. BILL Zodiac. Let it be Zodiac? MOON Zodiac it shall be. Good show! The moon freezes, takes his place among the stars. Bill closes his eyes, repeating the word, savoring the sound: BILL Zodiac...Zodiac...thatll be me. My ticket to Paradise. He cranks up his stereo, blasting acid rock. Lights a joint. Then, an unwelcome voice from outside his door: 0002000003990000AA3B393,MOTHER (O/S) Dammit, Ive told you to stop that infernal racket Bill glances at an old photo on his wall: a sharp-looking Navy captain. A face like Bills his Dad. Bill nods, then shouts: BILL Shut up, mother! Just shut up! I am the master of this house now! I am the master of this world! SLAM CUT: Bill with surgical gloves on, as always - furiously writes, pounding away at another letter, on fire with sinister purpose. As he grinds pen to paper, his voice intones the words: BILL (V/O) This is the Zodiac speaking. In answer to your asking for more details about the good times I have had in Vallejo, I shall be very happy to supply even more material... EXT. VALLEJO STREET - DAY Bill drops this latest missive into the mailbox. Then, at a newsstand, he buys the days papers, excited for more news. But he gets a surprise - headline news of two spectacular multiple-homicide cases down in Los Angeles. 0002000003280000ADCE322, All over is front-page news of the gruesome Tate-LaBianca murder case. Bill stops in his tracks. He looks around, then reads on, keeps on walking...reading and walking, transfixed. His eyes bore through the pages. The paper says no suspects have yet been identified in the case - but Bill clearly has a gut feeling...he stops again, staring into space. CUT IN a quick FLASH: Bills encounter, two years before, with Charles Manson outside the Process Church in San Francisco; the very moment when Charlie winked at him. Like a benediction. EXT. BAY BRIDGE - DAY Bills Impala makes its way over the Bay, towards San Francisco. INT. BILLS CAR - DAY Bill glances at the Chronicle on the passenger seat. He smiles a bit, but his jaw is set, determined. Chaotic thoughts careen behind his burning eyes. 0002000004960000B0F0490,EXT. HAIGHT STREET/STOREFRONT DAY Bill walks down Haight Street, right towards the old Process Church of the Final Judgment. He finds the church abandoned, boarded up. Spray-painted across the front are two slogans: COME TO NOW and THOU ART GOD. Bill regards these six words, nodding with utmost seriousness. BILL As it is, so be it. EXT. COIT TOWER - MAGIC HOUR Bill ascends to the top. Hes alone up there. As the sun drops down, bathing San Francisco in a golden glow, he looks out over the idyllic little city. BILL Soon, you will all be my slaves. He sighs, contented. Smiles again, a satisfied man - for now. He sings a Mikado line to himself: BILL I mean to rule the earth, as he the sky/We really know our worth, the sun and I... Though the sun hasnt yet set, the moon hangs low in the sky. Bill smiles, and sings out even louder: BILL Ah, pray make no mistake, we are not shy/Were very wide awake, the moon and I! INT. TOSCANAS OFFICE - NIGHT Toscana sits at his desk, in his cluttered precinct office. The only decoration: a poster for Bullitt, signed by Steve McQueen. The phone rings - the voice on the other end is Pete Waverlys. TOSCANA 00020000073F0000B580739,So our boy has a name now, huh? PETE (O/S) Looks like it. Zodiac - I guess its catchy. Much better than the Cipher Slayer, anyway. TOSCANA Gives me the creeps. Now well see if this psychopath has the balls to live up to it. PETE (O/S) But what does he want? Hes not making any demands, no money or - tOSCANA (O/S) Attention. He wants attention. INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Bill, back home. He pops a few tabs of acid, sits at his desk. Around him, the basement walls are covered with many new written word-shapes, symbols, codes, graphs his lair is now more of an intricate art project. More movie posters too: Pretty Poison, The Boston Strangler, Psych-Out, No Way to Treat a Lady. Now Bill is hard at work. But not on a letter this time. No it looks like a costume. Expertly working a sewing machine, he sews together a piece of headwear: a black, four-cornered executioner-style hood. BILL (V/O) To kill something gives me the most thrilling experience...The best part of it is that when I die I will be reborn in Paradise, and those I have killed will become my slaves. The elaborate costume is almost done. The finishing touch is a logo on the front - a white crossed-circle symbol: crosshairs. Bill cuts several lengths of plastic clothesline. He decorates the wooden handle of his foot-long bayonet with two brass rivets. He takes out a .45 pistol and begins cleaning it, like a ritual - the rod sliding in and out of the barrel, gently, lovingly. BILL Evolving...revolving... Finished, he reviews a newspaper clipping about a recent prison escape in some remote Montana town. BILL Now is the main sequence, see when the star starts to shine at its brightest. He looks over a state park brochure: photos and a description of scenic Lake Berryessa. He cross-references this site with points along a radian map of Mt. Diablo. 0002000003570000BCB9351,Satisfied, he glances over at the fishtank. BILL Wish me luck, Aleister. Now is the time to become. EXT. ROUTE 128 - DAY September 27th, 1969 A sunny Saturday, late afternoon. Bill pilots the Impala through the pretty rolling hills, winding mountain roads. His car passes the Monticello Dam, glinting with golden sunlight. INT. BILLS CAR - DAY Bills eyes are focused dead ahead, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel. On the passenger seat sits a large Army backpack, filled with his tools for the days work. At a sign marked KNOXVILLE ROAD/LAKE BERRYESSA, Bill turns off. EXT. KNOXVILLE ROAD/LAKE BERRYESSA STATE PARK - DAY The Impala drives up Knoxville Road, along the west coast of the lake. Past a sign reading OAK SHORES, the car turns off. Bill is about to park; just then a FATHER and SON, walking with their fishing gear, crest a hill. 0002000003240000C00A31E,Bill turns the car away, driving on. Searching. EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA - TWIN OAK RIDGE - DAY Twin Oak Ridge is a grassy little peninsula that extends out into Lake Berryessa, shaded by several large oak trees. In this very romantic setting are two young, attractive college students: BRETT HEALEY, 20, and DELIA ANNE SHEFFIELD, 22. They are laid out side-by-side on a blanket, basking in the golden late-afternoon light. A picnic basket sits open beside them. DELIA You were right, I love it here. Ive had a great time today. Brett rolls to face Delia. His eyes are filled with love. BRETT Me too. So...its true that I wont see you for three months? DELIA Well, Riverside is pretty far. But you could drive down, if you want. BRETT Ill think about it. Delia play-punches him. Brett laughs. 00020000069D0000C328697,EXT. OAK SHORES - PARKING AREA - DAY Driving, Bill spots a white Karmann-Ghia convertible parked by a remote peninsula, a finger of land that points into the lake. He pulls up near the other car. Getting out, Bill looks into the distance: about 500 yards off, he sees a young couple atop the peninsula, relaxing on a blanket. No one else around. Perfect. He reaches into the Impala, pulling out his gear. Checking to make sure hes alone - he is - he straps on his utility belt, the clothesline, the bayonet. Clips on the pistol holster. He holds the black executioners hood in his hand. Bill takes a few deep breaths, then starts out walking toward the couple, the jangling of his keyring the only sound. EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA - TWIN OAK RIDGE - DAY Brett still faces Delia; she still looks up at the sky. BRETT Weve been good friends for so long, but... Delia finally turns to face him. She looks serious. DELIA I know. Its kind of...it feels different now. BRETT Yeah? I mean...you think so too? Delia considers. Brett tries to keep his cool. EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA SHORE - DAY Bill trudges toward the peninsula, weighed down by his para- military costume, his weaponry and gear. Hes getting closer and closer to Brett and Delia - he now has a straight view up at the couple. But they havent seen him... EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA - TWIN OAK RIDGE - DAY Delia draws a little closer to Brett. DELIA It does feel different. But...it also means Im going to miss you a lot more. BRETT Me too. They stare into each others eyes, tentative. And then, gently, they kiss. A long, slow, deepening kiss. EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA SHORE - DAY Bill, less than a hundred yards away now, stops short. 0002000003880000C9BF382,He watches the young couple as they kiss, seems transfixed by them. These two have everything that he can never have... Then, face twisted, Bill picks up the pace, double-time. EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA - TWIN OAK RIDGE - DAY Brett and Delia continue to kiss. Finally, she breaks it - its getting a bit too heated for her. BRETT God, am I going to miss you. Just then, over Bretts shoulder, Delia sees something: A stocky, dark-clad man is walking up toward them, like a bizarre apparition in the fading sunlight. DELIA Wait - But suddenly, strangely, the man drops out of view. DELIA Did you see that? There was a man there... Brett puts on his glasses, turns over to look in that direction. BRETT There was? Where? Bill has simply walked down into a depression on the peninsula, a long tidal trench. Then, slowly - for maximum unsettling effect - he ascends up the other side, onto the peninsula. 0002000003130000CD4130D, From Delias POV, Bill reappears, silhouetted by the setting sun. Now hes quite close, maybe thirty feet away. BRETT Whoa. What the hell DELIA This is weird. Should we...? BRETT I thought Halloween was next month. Bill is now in HIS full costume: the black executioners hood, squared at the top. Theres a sort of bib over his chest, marked with his embroidered, crossed-circle logo. His eyes are hidden by Randolph Aviator shades over the hoods eyeholes. Raising his right hand, Bill points a .45 semiautomatic. DELIA Oh oh, hes got a gun! BRETT Oh shit. Bill walks right up to them, .45 aimed. Delia hugs close to Brett. He sits up, puts his arm around her, defensive. Brett glances around - theres no one else anywhere. Trying not to panic, Brett loudly blurts out: 00020000032B0000D04E325,BRETT What do you want? BILL I want your money and your car keys. I...need to go to Mexico. Brett pulls out his wallet, tosses it, his car keys and some quarters at Bills feet. Bill doesnt move. BRETT I only have a little. Bill holsters the gun, but ignores Bretts offering. BRETT Sorry I dont have anything else, but if you need BILL No, I dont have time - Im an escaped convict from Deer Lodge, Montana. I killed a prison guard there. Im broke, my car is hot. Something in Bills tone is oddly conversational, not overly threatening. Brett tries to mollify him with some small talk: BRETT Its hot? What make is it? BILL None of your damn business. And dont try playing hero on me. Dont even think about going for the gun. BRETT I wont. I just...I gave you like everything Ive got. So... 0002000003250000D37331F,Delia is starting to get panicked. But Bill just stands there. Its a weird scene: the assailant, as frightening as he appears, is not actually making a move. Finally, Bill starts to unwind the clothesline from his belt. BILL I guess Ill have to tie you up, then. Lie facedown on the ground. Brett stands up, defiant. Delia, even more terrified, pleads: DELIA Please, no. Im a virgin, please dont make me do that... Bill doesnt move; he repeats his order in a flat, even tone. BILL I said lie facedown, now. Brett reluctantly does so. Bill says in Delias direction: BILL Here, you tie the boy up. Do it. He hands her a length of the clothesline. Delia does as shes told, but loosely - Bretts hands are held slightly apart. Then Bill sets about tying Delia up. Shes bound tight, immobile. 00020000038A0000D692384,When Bill checks the knots on Brett, he finds them loose. As he re-ties them, extremely tight, he looks toward Delia: BILL You didnt tie these very tight. Thats gonna cost you, sweetie. Delia whimpers Brett looks over at her. They lock eyes for a minute: whats going to happen? Is this guy serious? Bill finishes the knots on Brett. The sun is setting fast. Hes perspiring under the hood, sweat trickling into his eyes. BILL Im getting a little nervous, here. He looks out to the horizon; the sun is dropping into the lake the scene is darkening. He steels himself, feels the strength in his veins, his bones. BILL In fact, I think Im gonna...have to stab you people. BRETT Wait. Do you...really mean that? BILL Yeah. I really do. With that, Bill unsheathes his foot-long bayonet. BRETT Oh, god no...please. Look, if you - please stab me first! I couldnt stand seeing her hurt. Please 0002000003240000DA1631E,BILL Ill do just that. He stabs Brett in the back. Brett cries out in agony. A spurt of his blood spatters Delias face; she screams, rolling away on her side, trying to hide herself. But Bills knife thrusts are in fact somewhat mechanical, not extremely forceful or deep. After five or six thrusts, he stops. Brett closes his eyes, seeming to pass out from the shock. Bill turns on Delia. She tries to roll away - he attacks. This time, the blows are hard and fast. Five land in her back; she thrashes under him, onto her side. DELIA Stop, stop! Stop! Please! Bill keeps stabbing Delia, her groin, her chest - more and more frantically, ignoring her agonized screams. At last she flips onto her bleeding back. Bill sinks the knife into her chest, full-length, over and over, out of control. 00020000034E0000DD34348,Bill is savagely grunting and groaning; this is literally an orgasmic experience for him, taking this poor girls life. Facing away from the horror, Bretts eyes are now open, tears streaming out, streaking the blood. He is alive - just playing dead - but theres still nothing he can do. Finally, it stops. Bill gets to his feet, spent. The remaining sunlight drains out of the sky. He sheathes his bloody blade, glances down at Bretts wallet, keys and change on the blood-soaked blanket. Then Bill walks off, back towards his car. Delia doesnt make a sound. Brett rolls over to her, blood mixing with his tears. He can barely say her name: BRETT Delia...oh Jesus...Delia...? EXT. OAK SHORES - PARKING AREA - DUSK Walking quickly toward his car, seeing that the area is still deserted, Bill lifts the executioners hood off his head. 0002000003660000E07C360,He reaches Bretts Karmann-Ghia. He takes a black marker from his utility belt. He kneels down behind the passenger side of Bretts car, as if to write something... A moment later, he stands. He calmly walks to his Impala, gets in, and pulls out, turning and heading back on Knoxville Road. As Bills car disappears, Brett can still be heard moaning in the background - using the last of his strength to cry out: BRETT (O/S) Help! Somebody help us...please... EXT. MAIN STREET - DOWNTOWN NAPA - NIGHT Its now dark. Bill stands in a phone booth, on Main Street in Napa. He nervously fingers his black magic marker, phone receiver in hand. He waits. Then: BILL I want to report a murder. No, a double murder. Theyre one mile north of Park Headquarters. They were driving a white VW Karmann-Ghia...Im the one that did it. He drops the receiver and walks away. 0002000003390000E3DC333,EXT. OAK SHORES - PARKING AREA - NIGHT PUSH IN: the passenger door of Brett Healeys Karmann-Ghia... Bills crossed-circle logo is scrawled upon the door in black marker. And a few words: Vallejo 12/20/68 7/4/69 Sept. 27 69, 6:30 by knife. EXT. LAKE BERRYESSA - DAY (NEWS REPORT FOOTAGE) CUT TO an archival-footage interview with SGT. WILLIAM WHITE, near the Lake Berryessa crime scene: SGT. WHITE (on TV) ...thats about the worst I ever seen, those kids chopped up. Just real nice college kids, stabbed for no reason at all. I never witnessed anything like it before. BILL (O/S) Well you will again, my man! INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT PULL OUT from the TV. Bill stands there watching, while reading the days Chronicle. He loves it to death, all of it. What he was destined to be, he has now truly become. 0002000003190000E70F313,BILL This is it, Aleister. Im all over, everywhere. I have arrived. CLOSE ON a black-and-white crime scene photo of the Karmann- Ghias door, with Zodiacs magic-marker scrawl. Widen out on the photo to reveal the COPS standing around. Another archival TV news interview, with a Napa County Sheriff: SHERIFF (on TV) ...this guy is a pathological psycho. A very sick and degenerate killer. Theres no doubt about it. INTERCUT: Bill, still watching TV, laughs at this line. Then, pondering it, he starts to look almost hurt. FLASH more crime scene photos - including images from Delia Anne Sheffields recent funeral. Over this is layered the droning voice of Napa County Police CAPT. TOM DOWLING, at a local press conference: CAPT. DOWLING (on TV) He cant be anyone but a mentally 0002000003400000EA2233A,ill person who derives his sex gratification from the act of killing - and has a truly bizarre need for attention. Bill frowns, not liking the sound of that at all. BILL Hang on now, hombre... OVERLAP another interview, with Napa Detective KYLE BARLOW: BARLOW (on TV) The killings have a few things in common: the victims were all young couples, slain on weekend nights, in or near their cars, near bodies of water. Theres been a different weapon used in each attack; robbery or rape have not been motives. In fact, theres been no motive - none that weve been able to detect... Bill, still glued to the TV, looks more and more furious - the many opinionating voices building to a cacophony in his head. The Special Report ends with Chronicle reporter Pete Waverly: WAVERLY (on TV) Ive concluded that this Zodiac 00020000037D0000ED5C377,is a clumsy criminal, a liar, and - given that hes now left two male victims alive - possibly a latent homosexual. INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Bill snaps, throws a bayonet across the room and into the wall. BILL So Im a closet case now? Who is this idiot, calling me some kinda goddamn pansy! You just signed up, fucker! Suddenly Bills head is splitting; he slams five or six aspirin, washes them down with Jack Daniels. He picks up the Chronicle, angrily circling Pete Waverlys name in red pen. Hes upset, confused, annoyed at the very moment he should be reveling in his latest triumph. Bill looks to Aleister: BILL That is just downright offensive. Its...its defamation of character! I should sue the fuckin bastards for spreading these lies about me. Bill takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He goes and sits by Aleisters tank, looking at his only friend. 0002000006950000F0D368F, BILL Look - you and me both know the motive. Slaves for the Afterlife. Why is that so hard for these fools to figure out? Man, all of em will end up servin us. Were gonna have a lot of company up in Paradise... Suddenly, theres a furious banging at the door. His mothers grating, gravelly voice: MOTHER (O/S) I thought I told you to take out the garbage and do those goddamn dishes! Im not well! You not only lost your job - you cant even help your sick mother around my house! Her rant is interrupted by a loud coughing jag. Bill has had it with her, with everyone. He shrieks at the top of his lungs: BILL Yes SIR! Now shut up, sir. Just shut up and leave me alone! SLAM CUT TO: Bill at his desk, bathed in cool moonlight. He leans in, intent, hard at work on a customized map: points radiating out from Mt. Diablo. CLOSE-UP: points along the triangle are previous murder sites around Vallejo and Lake Berryessa. Now he pinpoints another site: one street corner in San Francisco, near the Presidio. He double-checks this location against his calendar, then a star chart of the Zodiac it seems to make sense to him. He takes several deep breaths, calming down... DISSOLVE TO: INT. BILLS ROOM - DAY Now cooler and calmer, Bill checks himself in the mirror. Dark shirt, trousers, wind-breaker. No glasses. He looks sharp. He grabs his huge jangling keyring, walks upstairs. INT. HALLWAY - DAY Bill opens the front door. To his surprise, two men are standing there, one with his hand upraised to knock. BILL Uh...hello. Detectives Larch and Lindgren. Larch checks his clipboard: LARCH Are you, uh... Bill sees his name on Larchs list. He nods, ever so cooperative. 00020000035E0000F762358, BILL Yes sir, thats me. EXT. BILLS HOUSE - FRONT PORCH - DAY Bill steps out to join them on the sun-bathed front porch. LARCH Alright. Im Detective Larch, this is Detective Lindgren. We wanted to ask you a few questions about - BILL Its about Danielle, huh? Awful, awful thing. Really too bad. LARCH Yes sir. And since this other attack up at Lake Berryessa, some people are thinking the killings might be linked, so... LINDGREN Your name came up, since a couple folks saw you and Danielle together not long ago. Did you know Danielle real well? BILL No, not real well. Im kind of a regular at Terrys, and we got to talking once. She was kinda flirty. LARCH So weve been told. BILL Yeah. Anyway, we went on one date, and...that was that, basically. LINDGREN Mmm - Danielles husband... Lindgren leans on this word for a beat. Bill doesnt blink. 0002000003410000FABA33B,LINDGREN ...said you came to their house BILL Oh, right. The party - yeah, I just dropped by to say hello to Danielle. LARCH And had to be escorted out? Bill remains cool, even with the hot sun blasting into his eyes. BILL Yeah, it...turned out I had a bit of food poisoning that night. Ate some bad clams, yknow. Ended up in bed here for a week or so. LARCH Mm-hmm. Is there anyone who could verify that, just in case? BILL Well, my mom is upstairs...she looked after me while I was sick. I think shes taking a nap now, but you could - Larch peers into the dark stillness of the house. Then checks the rest of his list - its a mighty long list. LARCH Nah, I think were okay for now. Lindgren hands Bill a business card. Bill pockets it, smiles. LINDGREN If we have any follow-up questions, mind if we call again? 0002000003350000FDF532F,BILL Not at all. LARCH Thanks for your time. BILL Hope you get a break! They get into their car and head off down the driveway. When theyre out of sight, Bill lets out a huge exhale, then catches his breath. His eyes bug out as he collects himself. Then, slowly, he smiles. Laughs even. Exhilarated. BILL Whoa. Wow. EXT. MT. DIABLO - TWILIGHT A crisp autumn night. Bill is high atop Mt. Diablo. Hes gazing out over wine country, in the direction of distant San Francisco - his future domain, his new kingdom. Hes high, excited, feeling a new level of invincibility. Feeling his power over an entire terrified city. The next voice we hear is Bills - in his head. BILL (V/O) Who do they think I am, anyway... some moron who wouldnt bother to cover his tracks? He takes a few deep, delicious hits off a joint. 0002000003540001012434E,BILL (V/O) You slobs are gonna have to do a lot better than sending two old flatfoot losers to surprise me on my own doorstep. A slug of Jack Daniels. He hisses, warmed by the rush of liquor. His voiceover speeds up - gaining in intensity, grandiosity. BILL (V/O) Youre gonna learn to play by my rules, and the game has barely even begun. Youre gonna find out who Zodiac really is. But you will never...ever find out who I am. FADE TO BLACK. OVER BLACK: The Lord High Executioner, from The Mikado, bleeds onto the soundtrack. BILL (V/O) For my next act, I believe Ill go to the theatah. EXTREME CLOSE-UP on a TV screen: Charlie Chan at Treasure Island. In this scene, a letter is being read: I accept your challenge to a demonstration of my powers. I shall appear on your stage tonight - Dr. Zodiac. The image blurs, fades, whites out... 00020000032E00010472328,A beat later, someone asks: Is Dr. Zodiac in the house? INT. AMERICAN CONSERVATORY THEATRE - NIGHT October 11th, 1969 A scene from The Mikado is playing out live on stage. Beautiful costumes, glorious sets, transcendent musical melodies. The CHORUS OF NOBLES files onstage to welcome the villainous character of KO-KO, the Lord High Executioner: CHORUS Behold the Lord High Executioner! A personage of noble rank and title, A dignified and potent officer, Whose functions are particularly vital! Defer, defer! - to the Lord High Executioner! Bill sits front-row center, adoring it, grinning like a kid, his face bathed in rich red light from the stage. The majestic KO-KO, in his sinister finery, takes center stage: KO-KO Taken from the county jail, By a set of curious chances Liberated then on bail, 0002000003480001079A342,On my own recognizances Wafted by a favoring gale, As one sometimes is in trances To a height that few can scale, Save by long and weary dances. Out in the audience, alone and never happier, Bill is moved almost to tears by Ko-Kos rumbling baritone declarations: KO-KO Surely, never had a male Under suchlike circumstances So adventurous a tale, Which may rank with most romances. CHORUS Defer, defer! - to the Lord High Executioner! Enraptured, Bill quietly sings along. He is in paradise. EXT. AMERICAN CONSERVATORY THEATRE - NIGHT An elated Bill files out with the rest of the THEATRE PATRONS, exiting the theatre onto Geary Street, off Union Square. Bill, wearing a black naval pea-coat against the cold, thick fog, looks out at Geary Street, the jostling traffic. Several cabs pile up at the curb, angling for a slot. 00020000034B00010ADC345,Bill scans, then selects one. He leans in, sees the young, white DRIVER at the wheel - hell do nicely. Bill gets in. BILL Washington and Maple. Please. INT. TAXICAB - NIGHT As the cab drives away, Bill quietly sings to himself - The Lord High Executioner. Streetlights wash over his pasty face, reflected in the horn-rimmed glasses he now wears... Bill leans forward a bit, checks the drivers license: RALPH STERN. He sees that Stern is 29 years old; 30 in two months. STERN Freezing out tonight, huh? BILL Sure as hell is. A quick FLASH-CUT of Bill, in full costume and makeup, as Ko-Ko. STERN Yeah - I only work nights, so its always cold. Bill says nothing. Silence, jaw-grinding. The cab bounces along into Presidio Heights, S.F.s most affluent neighborhood. A beat later, Stern slows toward the corner: Washington and Maple. 00020000039400010E2138E, STERN Anyway, Im at S.F. State during the day... Bill looks around, spies a MAN walking his dog nearby. BILL Go down one more block. Stern keeps driving, chatting all the while: STERN ...working hard to get my English doctorate in January, yknow. Stern pulls over again, at the corner of Washington and Cherry. STERN The point is, I dont see myself driving a cab much longer. Bill leaps forward, wraps his left arm around Sterns neck. He presses a Browning High-Power pistol into Sterns right cheek. BILL Neither do I. He fires. The gunshot is muffled, but instantly theres blood everywhere, splattering the windshield and dashboard. Bill jumps out of the cab, gets into the front seat. Cradling Sterns shattered head, he grabs his wristwatch and wallet. He pulls the keys out of the ignition. Then he starts tearing away part of Sterns bloodied shirt. EXT. WASHINGTON & CHERRY/STREET CORNER - NIGHT 000200000338000111AF332,Directly across the foggy street, twenty yards away - up in the second-floor window of a stately house - someone is watching. INT. 3899 WASHINGTON STREET HOUSE - NIGHT Inside the window stands a teenage girl at a house party: RAIN. The Electric Prunes acid rock is blasting; behind Rain, a dozen or so RICH TEENAGERS are making out, smoking grass. But Rain is riveted by what shes seeing out the window... RAIN Hey Jeff, look! I think something is happening down there. Jeff, her older brother, lolls on a couch smoking a fat joint. JEFF Yeah, well a lot mores happening in here, so... Rain leans closer to the window. Her hand goes to her mouth. RAIN No, I mean it. Look. Look! From Rains POV: EXT. WASHINGTON & CHERRY/CORNER - STERNS CAB - NIGHT Bill has pushed Sterns body away; he is now wiping down the 00020000041E000114E1418,cabs bloody interior with a bandanna. Now theres a group of kids at the window - unbeknownst to Bill - watching from above as Bill exits the cab, takes out another rag and wipes down the door handle, the window, the mirror. He leans against the metal window divider, the bloody square of shirt fabric in his hand. His fingers make contact is Bill not concerned about fingerprints? CLOSE ON Bills fingertips: they are all coated with a thick, hardened layer of dried glue. INT. 3899 WASHINGTON STREET HOUSE - NIGHT Watching the action below, Jeff is riveted too. Everyone is. JEFF Whoa. What the fuck is going on? RAIN I dont know - but Im callin the cops right now. EXT. WASHINGTON & CHERRY/CORNER - STERNS CAB - NIGHT Outside, Bill shuts the cab door...and calmly crosses Cherry St. Hissing under his breath, Bill testifies to his deed, his mind racing, words tripping out rapid-fire: BILL There, you morons. You see? I just killed a man - a man. Get it? Blew his goddamn head apart. On your turf. So I think Im quite capable, thanks. 00020000062E000118F9628,Through the lifting fog, Bill can see the Impala down the hill, parked at the bottom of Washington, with Presidio Terrace beyond. Then something catches Bills eye; a pretty young woman, in a nurses uniform, walking up the opposite side of Washington. She makes eye contact. Their eyes lock, just for a second... The young nurse is, in fact, JULIE KASS - the friend of Mary Sue Baker, Bills first victim in Riverside, three years before. (FLASH image: October 1966 - from Bills POV as Julie and Mary Sue part ways on the Riverside campus...) Bills eyes narrow: a vague glimmer of recognition on his face? Julie - who has no recognition of Bill - passes him, walking on. Bill pauses. Whether or not this young woman is significant, he has been spotted. So, as casually as possible, he heads back up Washington, turns the corner going north on Cherry. He stays calm, just out for a walk, just trying to stay warm... INT. 3899 WASHINGTON STREET HOUSE - NIGHT Rain is on the phone, still looking out the window: RAIN Hes wearing a black coat. He just turned around and headed up Cherry - yeah, toward the Presidio. EXT. CHERRY & JACKSON STREETS - NIGHT Bill whips off his horn-rimmed glasses, puts on a wool hat. With practiced speed, he then takes off his pea-coat, flips it inside out - its light green on the inside - and puts it back on. Suddenly: the distinct wail of a police siren. Its approaching, heading west down Jackson Street. Bill draws a deep, calming breath. Just ahead is a half-circular driveway, shaded by trees. But right now, theres no way out 0002000003EA00011F213E4,the cop car pulls over to the curb, right alongside him. Bill slows, thinks - then stops. The passenger cop, OFFICER FALK, leans out at Bill: FALK Hey, buddy you seen anything unusual just now? Seen anyone suspicious around - a black guy, maybe? Bill turns, faces Officer Falk. Casually: BILL Uh, yeah, actually I just saw a guy running up Washington, headin east, I think. Looked like he may have had a gun or The cop car burns rubber, bombing off down Jackson Street. Bill stands there, astonished. That could not have been closer. Hes just gotten away with it! He looks down at himself; his pants are spattered with blood, still wet. Incredible. Far behind him, another police cruiser screeches to a stop near Sterns taxicab, spotlight aimed up Cherry. A faint look of panic crosses Bills face. He makes for the half-circular driveway, ducks behind some shrubbery. Behind him is a low stone wall, dropping down onto West Pacific Avenue. Beyond that is a forest - the Presidio. 00020000039A00012305394,Another siren wails not far off. Distant cop voices. Spotlights and sirens are converging, radiating out from the crime scene. Bill jumps down the wall, darts across West Pacific Avenue. He runs into the mouth of the Presidio, into the fog, the dark safety of the woods. Just then, a couple of motorcycle PATROLMEN whiz up West Pacific. Hidden behind a tree, Bill smiles still nervous but slightly more confident. Still more sirens and floodlights, all around Presidio Heights. Orders shouted, search dogs barking. Its as if Bill is invisible...invincible? EXT. WASHINGTON & CHERRY/CORNER - STERNS CAB - NIGHT At the crime scene, Toscana and several other COPS look over the taxi. Sterns corpse is splayed across the front seat, his bloody, ashen hand dangling out the open passenger door. On the corner outside their house, Rain, Jeff and the other kids are giving their statements. Their party is quite over. 0002000003350001269932F,The thought of Zodiac is clearly not occurring to any of the cops. Another detective, BOB ARMITAGE, approaches Toscana. ARMITAGE How many cabbies been murdered - TOSCANA Four, in the last two months. ARMITAGE Any viable prints? TOSCANA Nope, not a one. Nothing. ARMITAGE Well, we couldnt find the wallet. So my guess is - TOSCANA Just the next cabbie in line from the look of it, poor bastard. Toscana waves his hand. Stern is loaded onto a stretcher. INT. BILLS CAR - NIGHT Hes speeding along, out of the city. The finale from The Mikado blasts: The threatened cloud has passed away/And fairly shines the dawning day... Bill finally busts out laughing, disbelieving, singing along. He pilots the Impala onto the Golden Gate Bridge and freedom. Fear, relief and elation play over his face. Unstoppable! 000200000330000129C832A,FADE TO BLACK. FADE UP: CLOSE ON the S.F.P.D. Wanted Poster as its stapled to a telephone pole. The face looks not unlike Bills. EXT. VALLEJO GAS STATION DAY The MAN who hung the poster walks down the street to the next telephone pole. He doesnt happen to notice... Bill, who is filling up his car at the station. He looks up and sees the same Wanted Poster on garage wall a face like his, wearing horn-rimmed glasses. (He is not wearing them now.) Disturbed, Bill holsters the gas pump and looks around him. The Wanted poster starts multiplying, popping up on every wall, tree and telephone pole. Hundreds of images of composite Bills, staring back at him, repeating endlessly. He dives into the car, screaming off onto the road but there are more posters on every telephone pole, every tree. 00020000031700012CF2311,He cant escape his own guilty face... INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Bill bolts up in bed. He is slick with sweat. Breathing hard, head splitting. He pops some aspirin, then rolls over, sits on the edge of the bed, cradling his head. Shaking it clear. He gets up and washes his hands, furiously. He peels the dried glue off his fingertips, dropping the caps into the sink. He pauses. Looking over at his best friend in the fish tank: BILL Alright...this is it, Aleister. Front pages, coast to coast big news. You ready? Psyching himself up - fully awake now, head clear - Bill sits down at his desk. He slips on a pair of surgical gloves. He thinks for a moment looking up at a class photo, himself in third grade then starts writing: BILL (ALOUD) This is the Zodiac speaking. I 000200000302000130032FC,am the murderer of the cab driver over on Washington Street last night... He looks over at the piece he cut out of Sterns shirt, neatly folded, crusted with dried blood. TIGHT ON the notepad as Bills slanted scrawl fills the page: BILL (V/O) I am the same man who did in the people in the north Bay Area. The S.F. police could have caught me last night if they had searched the park properly. Up to the end of October, I have killed... Bill smiles to himself, pleased. Moonlight shimmers into the room, soothing, cooling everything down. Hes back in control. EXTREME CLOSE-UP: black words slash and slant across the page: BILL (V/O) ...I have killed seven people. I have grown rather angry with the police for their telling lies about me...so I shall change my 00020000030F000132FF309,way of collecting slaves. Bill lights up a joint. Hes amped, really getting going: BILL (V/O) I shall no longer announce to anyone when I commit my murders. They shall look like routine robberies, killings of anger... He smokes, seriously leans into it, writing like a madman: MONTAGE: Images of San Francisco, and its unsettled CITIZENS, slide by - as if Bill is walking the streets among them, and they know his identity. Its a full-blown citywide panic. FLASH a shot of the famed, flamboyant San Francisco attorney MELVIN BELLI on a local talk show, discussing the Zodiac case. (A younger Belli was seen earlier, as one of the CIA operatives in Bills MK Ultra acid flashback scene.) BILL (V/O) The police shall never catch me, because I have been too clever for them. 0002000003710001360836B,Then another voiceover comes in, interrupting Bills own... The headline from a just-published S.F. Examiner editorial wipes across the screen, and the KRON-TV reporter reads it on-air: REPORTER (V/O) You are being hunted everywhere in the state and the nation. You are alone in this world. You can share your secrets with no one and you will be caught, theres no doubt. You face life as a hunted, tormented animal. We ask that you give yourself up. Bill barks laughter at that last line. He writes on. Intermixed with his escalating voiceover is BACKGROUND POLICE CHATTER, and a MONTAGE of the latest Chronicle headlines: The Boastful Slayer, A Target for Zodiac?, Ive Killed Seven, Zodiac Claims, Cops No Closer to Zodiac Identity. CLOSE-UP: Bills hand draws an intricate bomb diagram, designed specifically to take out a school bus. A work of demented art. 00020000033600013973330,BILL There is beauty in the bellow of the blast... Bills lovingly crafts the bus bomb diagram, as his voiceover rises in pitch, near-hysterical, splitting and overlapping, the lines sliding over one another: BILL (V/O) I enjoy needling the blue pigs the death machine is already made...schoolchildren make nice targets. I think I shall wipe out a school bus some morning...then pick off the kiddies as they come bouncing out. MONTAGE: archival footage of school kids, local bus patrols, S.F.P.D. squad car escorts. Zodiacs new school bus threat is being taken extremely seriously by the authorities. TIGHT ON Bills hand as it finishes yet another masterpiece a new, longer code cryptogram, 340 characters - with a flourish. The mysterious code letters scroll down the screen, a collage of sinister symbols. 00020000064F00013CA3649,And, reaching a heated fever pitch, his voice declaims: BILL (V/O) I think you do not have the man power to stop this one. Have fun! By the way, it could be rather messy if you try to bluff me. He signs off with the now-infamous Zodiac crossed-circle logo, then sits back, spent, post-orgasmic - too satisfied for words. END ON one archival-footage press conference clip... CHIEF DETECTIVE (on TV) I think this man is a psychopath, very seriously mentally deranged. He appears to have no conscience at all, no remorse after the acts, no reason for anything he does... ...then another, an interview with S.F.P.D. Captain Martin Lee: CAPTAIN LEE (on TV) I have studied all the letters, and I think this man is legally sane. He has exhibited intelligence by hiding from the police, and his cryptograms are works of art. The Zodiac is not a lunatic. INT. S.F.P.D - HOMICIDE OFFICE - DAY Gathered in the police department homicide room, Toscana and several other DETECTIVES look over the latest Zodiac letter. A piece of Ralph Sterns bloody shirt has been enclosed. TOSCANA The man wanted to be big-time no more of that small-town action. Well, now... Toscana lifts a corner of Sterns shirt with a pen. Revolting. TOSCANA ...hes in the big city. And hes threatened to kill kids. Detective Armitage scans the latest letter, skeptical. ARMITAGE I dont know...me, I take it for bullshit. I mean - look at this ridiculous diagram or whatever it is, this death machine. Disgusted, Armitage hands the letter and diagram off. ARMITAGE Its absurd, that thing. Just like when he said the code would give 000200000337000142EC331,his identity bullshit. The guys bluffing, angling for attention. TOSCANA Could be. Probably is. But thats a hell of chance to take. So far this bastards outsmarted us every step of the way. The phone rings. A cop answers, hands it to Toscana. PETE (O/S) So Dan - you taking precautions? TOSCANA Precautions...yeah. I cant see we have a choice. Can you? INT. TERRYS RESTAURANT - DAY Bill is eating lunch, perusing the days newspapers. A cute YOUNG WAITRESS passes; she smiles at Bill. He blushes, then notices a COUPLE at the next table. The man is pointing out a Chronicle article on Zodiacs threat against school kids. Off the couple, Bill scans the restaurant. Everyone, it appears, is engrossed in the Zodiac case - reading the papers, watching the TV reports, discussing the latest news in hushed tones. 0002000002840001461D27E,Bill catches snippets of every conversation in the place - and the only word he hears is Zodiac...Zodiac...Zodiac... On the restaurants little TV behind the bar - another news item: Detective Toscana is seen talking some COPS through the latest emergency security measures. CUT IN a quick interview with the decisive, now-famous detective: TOSCANA (on TV) We are taking the schoolbus threat very seriously. And, since the so-called Zodiac has struck in San Francisco, S.F.P.D. takes over the case, which up to now has suffered from a lot of silly jurisdictional squabbling. Make no mistake: we are going to catch this individual. 0002000004A10001489B49B,Bill, still watching TV, is keeping a close eye on Toscana. Hes damn near impressed by this colorful cop character. Bill turns to another patron, an ELDERLY MAN, in the restaurant. BILL That Toscana thinks hes goddamn Steve McQueen or Clint Eastwood or somebody. The elderly man, who hasnt heard Bill anyway, turns away. Bill sips his coffee and continues talking, under his breath: BILL Toscanas nobody. Hes nothing. Hell make a hell of a useful slave, though. EXT. SAN FRANCISCO (VARIOUS LOCATIONS) - DAY Bill is out and about, walking through San Francisco Haight-Ashbury, the Mission, the Japanese gardens in Golden Gate Park. Hes on a higher high than ever, the peak of his media infamy. The entire city is in his grip, yet hes as anonymous as ever. Every newspaper in sight screams news of Zodiac... End on a shot of the boarded-up Process Church storefront. Its covered in colorful psychedelic posters for rock concerts at the Avalon, the Fillmore, the Winterland. But right in the middle is something else: the new Zodiac Wanted poster. Revised since Bills close call with the S.F.P.D. (after the Stern murder), it now more closely resembles Bills face. 00020000063C00014D36636,The Zodiac Wanted poster begins to multiply: two more, then four more, ten, fifty, a hundred - until it takes over, covering the entire storefront... EXT. SAN FRANCISCO/HAIGHT STREET - DUSK Later that day, towards evening. Bill, walking down Haight Street eating an ice cream cone, passes a payphone. Impulsively, he picks up the phone, drops in a dime and dials. INT. TOSCANAS OFFICE - DUSK Toscana is just walking in. His office is a disaster; the crossed-circle Zodiac symbol is up on a blackboard, along with assorted star charts and maps. Loads of astrology and occult books - and copies of the revised Wanted poster. He slumps behind his desk, spent. Pours a shot of whiskey. Then the phone rings. He grabs it: TOSCANA Toscana here. EXT. SAN FRANCISCO/HAIGHT STREET - DUSK Bill cracks a smile - hes got his man, first try. BILL My brother, the Man! This is the Zodiac speaking. No sir, Dan, its really me believe me. You know, I always did want to be a cop. I like your work. TOSCANA (O/S) Cant say I like yours. BILL Well you better be careful, or you are gonna get got, my man. This is my movie. Im calling the shots, I am directing this show! INT. TOSCANAS OFFICE - DUSK Toscana is frantically gesturing to Armitage, covering the phone, silently mouthing words: TOSCANA (silent) Its him...its Zodiac! Quick, run a trace! BILL (O/S) So you fools better show me just a bit of respect. You dig? Armitage bolts out of the office. Toscana writes down every word: BILL (O/S) Cause Im a genius, see? Every other amateur idiot got caught, right up to Manson. But not me. 00020000037B0001536C375,EXT. SAN FRANCISCO/HAIGHT STREET - DUSK Bill is getting warmed up. He tries to keep his voice down. BILL Not me, baby. I am a nightmare. I am the best, the best since Jack the motherfuckin Ripper! TOSCANA Listen, you piece of shit - Bill slams the phone down, on fire now. Then he sees something two faceless MEN in trench coats, coming up the sidewalk. Eyes on Bill. Larch and Lindgren? No - other men. Two generic, gray G-Man types. Bill pauses, then stomps away, across the street towards another payphone. He glances back - the two G-Men are gone. Bill heads right for the payphone, dials. Its picked up: BILL Pete Waverly? This is the Zodiac speaking. PETE (O/S) Bullshit. Youre only the fourth or fifth guy today whos called saying hes the Zodiac. Bill looks startled, for a moment. Then red-faced, enraged: BILL You better believe this is the real goddamn Zodiac, pal. 000200000323000156E131D,INT. WAVERLYS OFFICE - DUSK Waverly is seated at his desk, reviewing photocopies of all the latest Zodiac letters and several bulging case files. The file on top reads: RIVERSIDE 66, M.S. Baker (unsolved). PETE Alright, I believe you. So - BILL (O/S) Tell your pompous lawyer buddy Mel Belli Im sure sorry about that kafuffle down at Altamont. INTERCUT: another quick shot of attorney Belli hes walking in the churning crowd at Altamont Speedway, site of the recent, disastrous Rolling Stones free concert. EXT. SAN FRANCISCO/HAIGHT STREET - DUSK Bill cracks up laughing on the phone, enjoying himself. BILL Wasnt exactly Woodstock, was it? I declare that the 60s are over. The Age of Aquarius ends with me. PETE (O/S) If you have a point, Mr. Zodiac, why dont you get to it? Im sort 00020000043B000159FE435,of busy here. BILL The point is that its in the air now. Big trouble. Big violence... its everywhere, worldwide PETE (O/S) So youre a revolutionary now, or what? Youre gonna tear down the system by murdering innocent kids? BILL Shut up! No one is innocent. And if you think Manson and me are the problem, you oughta look into what the government is up to these days. I could tell you stories thatd blow your mind, man. PETE (O/S) So tell me already! Bill is caught short. He pauses. BILL Dont ever tell me what to do. He slams the phone down. After a quick look around no more G-Men to be seen - Bill takes a deep breath and walks away. OMITTED INT. BILLS ROOM NIGHT Bill hunches over his desk, listening to his new H.A.M. radio. Hes tuning in to the local police frequency. Through the static crackle, he hears a couple of familiar voices: LARCH (O/S) I dont know, I still feel pretty good about that one creep. LINDGREN (O/S) Why, just cause he wore a Zodiac brand watch? Cmon. LARCH (O/S) No, there was a real squirrelly quality about the guy. I vote 00020000033700015E33331,lets follow up on him... The frequency slides off into static. Bill tries to re-tune the radio, but hes lost them. His clever smile has faded. He sits thinking, wondering - were they even talking about him? Or some other suspect? He checks his watch, Zodiac brand. Its only 9:30. He lights a hash pipe, then goes to feed Aleister, musing to himself: BILL No problem. Those pigs coulda been talking about anyone, right? Bill turns on the TV. It flickers to life... The first thing he sees is a local news interview with...Brett Healey. His male victim at Lake Berryessa. Bill stands there stock-still, astonished. BILL Hello - who have we here? Brett, sporting a tweed jacket, looks good as new. On the TV: BRETT (on TV) Unfortunately the man was wearing this hooded outfit, so I couldnt see his face at all... 00020000031700016164311, BILL Damn right you couldnt, college boy. BRETT (on TV) ...I have no malice in my heart against him - I just dont want this to happen again to anyone else. BILL Hah! You hear that? No malice against me. I stabbed that kid how many times? What kinda... FADE DOWN the sound on the TV. Bill just stares at Bretts face, his composure. His manner of forgiveness... BILL What kinda... He steps back from the TV. The H.A.M. radio crackles to life: LARCH (O/S) What kinda pussy is this Zodiac, anyway? Kills these young couples, nice young kids, then runs away? LINDGREN (O/S) Fat slobs prolly never been laid in his life. LARCH (O/S) Bet the last pair of tits he seen was his mothers! Bill is horrified by what hes hearing - or imagining. Then more sinister cop voices barge in: 00020000032900016475323,ARMITAGE (O/S) Loser cant hold down a job... TOSCANA (O/S) Not a friend in the world. Bill switches off the radio, slumps down onto his bed. Is he hearing voices? His face is twisted in sudden panic. Bill hears a noise outside. He darts to the little window - the moon is high and glowing. Bill stares at it through the telescope. No face, no smile. He concentrates, willing the moon to speak to him...but it doesnt. No friend of Bills, not anymore. Nothing but silence, darkness. Then another odd noise. Bill runs upstairs. Pressing his ear up against the door, he listens intently. Hears footsteps. Hes sweating, really freaking now. Whispering to himself: BILL Jesus whats going on? Am I hearing things now? He unlocks his door. Slowly cracks it open... INT. BILLS HOUSE HALLWAY - NIGHT 0002000003530001679834D,In the darkened hall, he sees his MOTHER standing at the front door. Shes silhouetted by silvery moonlight, wine bottle in hand, cigarette smoke curling all around her. Surprisingly, Mother is quite lovely: only in her late forties, amazingly shapely in an elegant black satin nightdress. Not at all what wed expect, judging from her voice. She is also staggering drunk. She turns away from the front door, moving like a creaky old woman. Unsteadily, she makes her way to the stairs...and slowly, very slowly ascends. A pitiful sight. Bill listens to Mothers drunken footsteps recede. He slips out the door, down the hall looks outside. No one there. The house is dark, foreboding. The walls seem to be closing in, and odd noises are everywhere, clicking, creaking, squeaking. Bill is pouring sweat, on the verge of totally freaking out. 00020000037400016AE536E,INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT CUT TO Bill at his desk, trying to write. Hes manic, trembling, bathed in the blue glow of the TV screen. The TV static dissolves into infamous images of Charles Manson and family Tex Watson, Leslie Van Houten, Susan Atkins etc. FLASH photos of their capture near the Spahn Ranch, then their mug shots. Footage of Charlie and the family in the L.A. County Courthouse, then in their jail cells. Locked away for good. Bill, eyes now pinned to the TV, looks seriously frightened by the sight of the Manson clans ignoble fate. INTERCUT a rush of violent images Vietnam carnage, the Chicago and Watts riots, bombings, assassinations. Finally, Altamont: the Hells Angels beatings, the freak-outs...and the stabbing death. FLASH the image of Melvin Belli in the crowd at Altamont. Belli looks placid amid the chaos; his face seems to mollify Bill. 00020000033300016E5332D,Bill checks his wall calendar: the date - December 20th - is circled. Also written there: FARLEY-JACKSON, 12/20/68. He shakes his head clear. Starts scribbling. BILL (V/O) Dear Melvin - This is the Zodiac speaking...the one thing I ask of you is this: please help me. I cannot reach out for help because of this thing in me wont let me. I am finding it extremely difficult to hold it in check. He pauses, counting off on his fingers - how many people...? BILL (V/O) I am afraid I will lose control again, and take my ninth and possibly tenth victim. Please help me; I am drowning. I cannot remain in control for much longer... Upstairs, Bill hears glass breaking - a violent crash - like falling. Falling down the stairs? Then a wail of pain - his mother. An agonized cry...like shes dying. It sounds mortal. 0002000003A10001718039B,Bill doesnt move - except to keep on writing. EXT. VALLEJO CEMETERY - MORNING CLOSE ON Bills face, again: he looks drained, pale in the gray light of a spring morning. Hes at his mothers funeral, standing at her graveside. Only three other MOURNERS are there, along with the MINISTER. Bills face is a blank mask as he stares straight down into the fresh-dug hole. INT. BILLS HOUSE - DAY Bill is at home, upstairs, staring through the door into his mothers empty bedroom. He looks as if he almost misses her now now he has absolutely no one. Utterly alone. Is this what he wanted all along? Now Bill sits in a corner of the living room, swilling Jack Daniels straight from the bottle. The sun sets, light draining out of the room. Dissolve... Then Bill sits at the kitchen table, eating a TV dinner. On TV: an image of the New Years celebration in New York City, as the lights burst on, welcoming in 1970... 00020000033D0001751B337,He flips through the Chronicle and the Times-Herald...and finds nothing about the Zodiac. Forgotten, so soon. SLOW FADE TO BLACK. Hear Bill whispering to himself, plotting, planning: BILL (V/O) I cant take this. I gotta get outta this nightmare. Gotta do something...do my thing. The sound of a car engine firing up, revving. EXT. BILLS HOUSE - NIGHT Bills Impala roars down the driveway, skids out onto the road. Inside the car, Bills jaw his set. His eyes are dead. EXT. HIGHWAY 132 - NIGHT March 22nd, 1970 A dark stretch of Highway 132, somewhere outside Modesto. Late at night, the two-lane road is utterly deserted. INT. BILLS CAR - NIGHT Bill drives with the radio on softly, lost in chaotic thought. His eyes are pinned straight ahead, teeth grinding. Looks like hes on the verge of laughter or tears. 00020000031900017852313,A car passes him, a late-50s Chevy wagon. Bill glances over; at the wheel is a cute YOUNG WOMAN, 21 or so. He lets her pass, but the wheels in his head start turning... Bill checks his rearview mirror...then accelerates. He begins flashing his high-beams, honking his horn. EXT. HIGHWAY 132 - NIGHT Seeing no oncoming traffic, Bill floors it, speeding up until hes driving alongside the young woman. Through his rolled-down passenger window, he shouts: BILL Hey, your rear wheel is loose! Its wobbling like crazy you oughta pull over! Im not kidding! The woman looks suspicious, says nothing. On she drives. BILL Dont worry, Ill help you out, but you really should pull over! Finally, her car pulls off the road, onto the dusty shoulder. Bill slows down behind her and stops. 00020000039000017B6538A,INT. WOMANS CHEVY - NIGHT Inside her parked car, the young woman KATIE JAMES secures a blanket around her infant daughter, sleeping on the seat beside her. Hearing a voice, she turns - and gasps. Bill is standing outside the car, with a tire-iron in his hand. BILL Sorry maam, didnt mean to scare you. But you got a real dangerous situation back there - your left rear wheel is really wobbling. Bill seems harmless enough, boyish even. He smiles at her. BILL So Ill just tighten up the lug nuts, then? Katie smiles back, and finally speaks: KATIE Thats very kind of you. I EXT. HIGHWAY 132 - NIGHT Bill is gone, back at the rear tire, kneeling down. Katie cranes her neck out to see him tightening away. After a moment, he returns: BILL Thatll do her - youre all set. Drive safe, now. KATIE Uh - well thanks! Bill is already walking away. He gets in his car, pulls out onto the road. 00020000032100017EEF31B,Katie pulls out too - but after a few seconds the wheel slides right off, and her car grinds to a halt. Bills car stops ahead of Katie, backs up a bit. He gets out, hustles back to her car. BILL Whoa! Jeez, it must be worse than I thought! KATIE It looks that way...god, this car has just been nothing but trouble. BILL Well, where you headed? KATIE Petaluma, I thought. But now - BILL I think theres a service station up the road. I can give you a ride. KATIE Well, I - BILL Really, its no trouble. After a moments consideration, Katie cuts her ignition. KATIE Let me just gather up my daughter. At this, Bills eager smile collapses...oh, no. A child? Then he notices something else: Katie is pregnant. INT. BILLS CAR - NIGHT Bill is at the wheel. The radio plays soft rock and roll. 0002000006570001820A651,Katie sits beside him, cradling her sleeping daughter. BILL Say, whats your name, anyway? KATIE Katie. Whats yours? Bills eyes are fixed dead ahead... BILL Well pretty Katie, dont you worry. Well get you sorted out. ...as he drives right past an open service station. Katie is about to speak up but then senses...something about him. She notices Bills jaw muscles grinding, a bead of sweat running down his temple. Though uneasy, she opts to keep quiet. LATER - Bill drives past another service station. KATIE What was wrong with that one? Bill grunts, but still says nothing. Now Katie looks truly nervous; more so when Bill steers onto the shoulder, as if hes going to stop then speeds up again. After another service station goes by, Katie has had enough: KATIE Hey, is this how you always help people out on the road? BILL When Im through with them, they dont need any help. Katies jaw drops. Bill finally looks at her - he is for real. He whips the car onto a narrow side road, heading straight into blackness. She looks panicked now, shielding her child. BILL Youre...gonna be dead. Very soon. Bill almost forces a smile at this. Lightly, he goes on: BILL You know youre gonna die, right? You know Im gonna kill you. Katie whimpers, terrified. The way Bill speaks is not overly threatening, however. He repeats himself several times, trance-like, almost a mantra to himself: BILL Im gonna kill you. I have to kill you. You have to die, you and your little kid both. His face is expressionless, his voice a flat monotone no anger, no hate, no emotion at all. EXT. COUNTRY ROADS - NIGHT 00020000032C0001885B326,The Impala heads randomly up one dirt road and down another. Highways and byways, aimlessly, endlessly driving. INT. BILLS CAR - NIGHT Bill still quietly repeats the words, nearly a singsong. Like hes trying to convince...himself? BILL You know I gotta kill you. You gotta die, I mean it - please... Trying not to panic, Katie notices as many details about him as she can: his blue-black windbreaker, black trousers. Horn-rimmed glasses, crew-cut hair. Perfectly respectable, from the outside. But Bills stony mask is cracking, his upper lip quivering - his thing just may not happen. Now he looks about to panic... When suddenly, the car jerks to a stop. BILL Aw, shit. EXT. FREEWAY ONRAMP - NIGHT In his agitated state, Bill has inadvertently driven partway up an onramp. He shifts into reverse... 00020000035500018B8134F, Katie throws open the door and jumps for it. She darts out onto the road - holding her daughter tight against her - and sprints across the highway. She clambers down the shoulder slope, wincing from the weight of her pregnancy, into a lush vineyard. She runs and runs, clutching her daughter. She glances behind her - sees Bill pull off the road and get out of his car. Then a flashlight pops on, the beam sweeping the vineyard. Katie drops. Her daughter wakes, starts to cry - Katie holds her hand over the babys mouth. Her heart is pounding; she tries to control herself, making sure not to even breathe too loudly. BILL You better get back here! Now! Bill steps down toward the field, sweeping the flashlight: BILL You stupid little bitch. I only wanted to help! Goddammit! After a moment he starts to back away. Its lost he gives up. 00020000033800018ED0332, Just then - a semi truck comes barreling along, startling Bill. The truck slows, stops. Panicked, Bill cuts off the flashlight, races back to his car. The TRUCK DRIVER steps down, seeing Bill take off in a hurry: TRUCKER What the hell is going on here? Bill jumps in, slams on the gas and is gone. The trucker stands there, perplexed. Then he sees a figure down in the distance. Katie looks up, on her knees, making sure Bills car is away. TRUCKER Hello? Is someone out there? Hey! INT. BILLS CAR - NIGHT Bill guns the accelerator. Hes now in a state of ineffectual, impotent rage. He slams his hand on the wheel. BILL Goddammit all to hell... Bills surging emotions are just barely under control. He whips the wheel around, fishtails the car across the highway. Now he is speeding off in the other direction. 00020000036C00019202366, EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT A tiny, desolate rural police station. One old cruiser out front. INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT An old SERGEANT listens as Katie sits recounting her story: KATIE ...anyway, thats all he said, over and over: Im gonna kill you, youre gonna die. Like he was hypnotized. SARGE Uh-huh. But you say you got a good look at him, huh? KATIE Yeah, I was sitting right next to him for an hour or so. He was, I dunno, sorta proper-looking. Neat. Heavyset, sweating a little, but he dressed nice. Like a military guy. The Sergeant has only been half-interested in what shes saying, but her description perks him up. He looks up from his report. SARGE ...really. Katie looks up at the Sergeant. Past him, to the wall behind. Among several Wanted posters tacked up...she sees Bills face. The Wanted poster - the revised composite sketch of Zodiac. 0002000006720001956866C,KATIE Oh my god - thats him. Thats... thats him! Thats the guy! The sergeant turns and looks his face goes pale. The Zodiac! SARGE Oh Christ. You know who that is? EXT. HIGHWAY 132 - NIGHT Bill stands at Katies car, emptying a can of lighter fluid into the interior. Hes failed, impotent, squirting away. Finally, he tosses the can aside, pulls out a matchbook. He lights it up, throws it aside. Whooosh! He jumps back, eyes watering from the intense heat. He stares at the car as it incinerates, cursing the world and everyone in it, himself above all. Looking up into the night sky - a cloud slides over the moon. Push in on Bills face glowing bright orange from the flames... DISSOLVE TO: INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT CLOSE UP on Bills face, muttering nonsense to himself. Never more alone, Bill scribbles away, words his only solace now. BILL Somethings up, Aleister...whats happening? Whats happening to me? Hes slumped at his desk, the bravado gone. He stops writing - uncertain, doubt playing over his pallid face. BILL That bitch with her kid screwed me all up, true...but still, I should be happy! Think of all the satisfaction Im not giving them... He looks up at the ceiling, the big star map, the constellations, the moon - his enduring source of inspiration. BILL They got no chase, no capture, no interrogation, no conviction, no incarceration - no execution. Isnt that nice? Shouldnt I be ...satisfied? My only crime is being smarter than them, right? But he looks even more doubtful. He hangs his head. Whatever hes trying to do to inspire himself, its not working. BILL My mind is all I got, and I think 00020000031300019BD430D,Im losing it. I thought I crossed the Rubicon years ago. I thought it was in the stars - but here I am, back where I started. He bolts up, sloshing Jack Daniels down his throat, prowling the room like its a cage - a rapidly shrinking cage. BILL If I dont do my thing anymore... then whats the story? Who am I? PUSH IN on Bills face - he has never looked more unhinged. He really does appear to be losing his mind. Then Bills V.O. fades in, reading segments of his new letters: BILL (V/O) I am mildly curious as to how much money you have on my head now...I would like to see some nice Zodiac buttons wandering about town - it would cheer me up considerably if I saw a lot of people wearing my button. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. SAN FRANCISCO STREETS - DAY (ANIMATED FANTASY SCENE) 00020000034E00019EE1348,{NOTE: this sequence will be ANIMATED in the style of R. Crumbs drug-crazed underground comix of the late 60s/early 70s.} Bill glides down a street in San Francisco, in full executioner regalia. In this animated incarnation, he cuts a tall, muscled figure: wicked black hood, armored military outfit, utility belt loaded with futuristic weapons. Hes SuperZodiac! Everyone out on the street is wearing a black button...with the Zodiac crossed-circle logo. The MEN shrink back, fearful of Bills power. The WOMEN every one young and comely smile admiringly, licking their lips. Bill struts past a group of KLANSMEN - they nod in salute. A few feral VIETCONG fighters take deep bows alongside them...some BLACK PANTHERS throw their fists up in a Black Power salute... and three or four HELLS ANGELS raise respectful thumbs-ups. 0002000003E40001A2293DE,Then, a naked, outrageously sexy young hippychick eases up to Bill a cartoon version of Aquarius (the young girl who, long ago, dismissed Bill as a pig.) She places a hand on Bills crotch. Looking up into his black, hooded eyes, she purrs: AQUARIUS When are you gonna do your thing again, baby? Were all waiting... (END ANIMATED SCENE.) INT. BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Bill is in bed, still dressed, hands grinding into his eyes. The latest issue of Crumbs Zap Comix lies open on his chest. His fantasy-fueled smile is gone, replaced by a pained grimace. Its no use fantasizing...he cant sleep, thrashing around... his head is splitting open. BILL I dont like this game anymore. He takes some pills from a bottle a prescription bottle. A heavier drug now than aspirin, washed down with whiskey. Then Bill sits up...takes a huge, deep breath...and screams. Its a long, loud, agonized, raging scream - from the core of his rotten soul, from the black void where his heart should be. 0002000002F50001A6072EF,SLAM CUT: INT. BILLS ROOM MORNING Bill is hard at work tearing down every scrap of paper, every movie poster, every map and chart and graph from his wall. Cryptogram code characters flitter across the screen, crowding the image with bright, glowing red letters. Bills voiceover, increasingly agitated and angry, chatters away, machine-gunning on: BILL (V/O) I have become very upset with the people of San Fran Bay Area. They have not complied with my wishes for them to wear some nice Zodiac buttons. I promised to punish them if they did not comply... Bill shoves all of his stuff into moving boxes, along with his piles of books. Magazines, comic books and films too. BILL (V/O) So I now have a little list, starting with the woman and her 0002000002F60001A8F62F0,baby I gave a rather interesting ride for a couple of hours one evening a few months back... Bill packs away all of his precious Mikado LPs. All of his guns and knives and other exotic weaponry. Hes a frenzy of movement; he cannot get out of this rancid hellhole fast enough. EXT. BILLS HOUSE - MORNING Bill carries box after box out to his car, chucking them all into the trunk like so much rubbish. His emotionless voice begins reciting lines from The Mikado: BILL (V/O) As someday it may happen that a victim must be found...Ive got a little list. Ive got a little list. Of society offenders who might well be underground...who never would be missed. Who never would be missed. A recording of the Mikado song cheerfully picks up the lyric... 0002000003A60001ABE63A0,DISSOLVE TO: EXT. BILLS HOUSE - DAY A gray sedan pulls up in front of the house. Larch and Lindgren get out and walk up the front steps, to the door. Larch knocks... And the door swings open. Theres nothing left, not a single stick of furniture. The house is empty. EXT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - DAY Bills Impala pulls though tall wrought-iron gates, up the long gravel driveway into a wooded, idyllic estate. A large bronze sign on the gate: ASHLAND PSYCHIATRIC INSTITUTE. INT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - PSYCHIATRISTS OFFICE - DAY Bill sits in an uncomfortable chair in a sterile white office. A young male psychiatrist, DR. GENCO, glances over his notes. Bill, dressed in gray pants and a clean white T-shirt, sits up straight and says not a word. DR. GENCO So...why do think you checked yourself in here? Bill shifts in his seat, squinting against the harsh sunlight - looking like he cant imagine how he ended up in this place. 00020000033A0001AF86334,BILL Well, I...I have these headaches - delusions, visions, voices... I cant control em - and I guess Ive done some pretty bad things in my life. DR. GENCO Havent we all? He smiles. Bill does not. Silence. DR. GENCO Well, do you think you might want to...be specific - as to how bad? What kind? BILL No, I dont think I do. I cant be too specific. But bad enough...that I put myself in here, lets say. DR. GENCO Alright, well leave it at that... and pick this up again tomorrow? INT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - BILLS ROOM - NIGHT Bill lies in his little cot in his tiny room, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Quiet all around. The ceiling begins to glow, bright white light - like a movie screen. Then, projected on it: Bills double murder, Lake Herman Road. Blasting the young man, chasing the girl down, five shots. 00020000037E0001B2BA378,Then Danielle and Mark, blood coating the inside of her car. And Lake Berryessa, the knife swooping down over and over into Delia. The muzzle of his pistol grinding into Ralph Sterns cheek, then the flash, the spray of blood and bone and brains. BILL Grow up. Cmon, you pathetic little pussy...just grow up. He squeezes his eyes shut, rolls over, facing the wall. Moonlight through the window hoods his eyes, making them black holes. INT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - BILLS ROOM - MORNING The next morning. Bill slaps himself awake. He pulls a fresh T-shirt over his head, smoothes his hair. He opens his door, then - seeing out and down the hall - stops. INT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - CORRIDOR - MORNING Bill peers past his door, watching: at the end of the hall, Dr. Genco quietly confers with TWO MEN. Both have slicked-back hair, dressed in charcoal gray suits, white shirts and skinny ties. 00020000030A0001B632304,Larch and Lindgren, the Vallejo detectives? He looks closer - no. But he has seen them before hasnt he? To Bills eyes, theyre U.S. Government all the way. He looks around the tiny room - the windows are bolted shut. No way out. He sits on the bed. Then looks up, hearing Dr. Genco and the two men walk by, passing, disappearing. EXT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - BACK LAWN - DAY Bill sits on a park bench, in the little park behind the main building. Hes reading a Robert Heinlein novel: The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. The sunlight on the page is broken. Bill looks up. The two men are standing before him, looming over him. JACKSON Afternoon. Im Agent Jackson, this is Agent Johnson. The young doctor told us you might be out here. JOHNSON Hell of a fine day. Mind if we 00020000033C0001B936336,have a word with you? Bill, visibly shaken, tries to maintain his composure. BILL Actually I do mind...but I guess that wont stop you. The two men pull up lawn chairs, lean in on either side. JACKSON As part of an ongoing government research project, Agent Johnson and I have been paying visits to men who may have... JOHNSON Been made a part of this military test program, voluntarily...or otherwise, during their years of service. BILL Then were talking - what, about ten years ago now? Cant say I remember those days too well. JACKSON Do you have any recollection of being enticed into a compromising type situation? Maybe a woman was involved? BILL Im sorry, I just - JACKSON Think hard, now. Its important. JOHNSON Never had an incident where you felt youd been...administered any kind of intoxicant, against 0002000002E40001BC6C2DE,your will? BILL Look, who the hell are you people? JACKSON Who are you, man? Who are you? BILL I have no idea what youre talking about, and Id really like to be left alone now - JOHNSON Listen up. We already know whats what and whos who. We know the program, and we know who you are. Of course Bill remembers it all, but thats for him to know. He sits forward, growing angry, trying to keep from shouting. BILL What do you mean? Im nobody. JOHNSON Oh, no. Youre somebody alright. JACKSON A big fat somebody - and everybody wants to find out who. JOHNSON Now, your dirty little secret is safe with us, rest assured. JACKSON Were not out to get you. We just wanted to meet and greet face-to-face, get to know you a little. 0002000003250001BF4A31F,JOHNSON So thats done, and well leave you in peace. But...but. BILL But what? JACKSON Just be good. Thats all. They get up and walk away. Bill stays rooted to his spot, watching them go. Hes thinking, calculating: Am I this important? Are these people still this interested in me? INT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - RECREATION ROOM - DAY Bill sits in a far corner of the deserted rec room. The softly droning TV is the only sound in the clean, sterile space. He reads through the days Chronicle, idly flipping the pages. Then he stops. Looks more closely. Theres an article by Pete Waverly, under the headline ZODIAC LINK IS DEFINITE. Bill noses into the paper. The sub-headline reads: Connection to Unsolved 1966 Slaying in Riverside? Waverlys article begins: Mary Sue Baker, a pretty Riverside 0002000005CE0001C2695C8,City College student whose brutal slaying on the night of October 30th, 1966, remains the only unsolved homicide in the citys history... Bill is suddenly riveted. He brings the article up close. It goes on: The recently discovered confession letter states, She was young and beautiful but now she is battered and dead. She is not the first and she will not be the last... FLASH on the typed letter and scan a nasty poem scrawled on a wooden school desk: Blood spurting, dripping, spilling...life draining into an uncertain death...just wait till next time. Bill grips the paper, seized by the intense, rushing memories. His voiceover picks up the Baker letter, savoring the words: BILL (V/O) I lay awake nights thinking about my next victim...Miss Baker went to the slaughter like a lamb. It was a ball. IMAGES - from almost four years ago - whip in and out: Bills vicious stabbing of Mary Sue, and her savage struggle...she spins, flips, fights back like a wild animal. BILL (V/O) I am not sick. I am insane. But that will not stop the game... Beware. I am stalking your girls now. FLASH: Bill plunges his knife into Mary Sues chest, slashes across her throat, spraying blood all over himself. Scanning down through the piece, Bill picks out one phrase: Julie Kass, who was Bakers best friend at the time... BILL Julie Kass... FLASH a CLOSE-UP of Julie Kass the night Bill passed her on the Presidio Heights street, following the Ralph Stern murder. 0002000003180001C831312,Bill cracks a warped smile. He begins singing, very softly. He seems suddenly rejuvenated, alive with purpose. BILL My object all sublime, I shall achieve in time - to let the punishment fit the crime, the punishment fit the crime... INT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - CORRIDOR - MORNING Bill strides down the hallway towards the front door, carrying his military duffel bag. Hes still smiling. Dr. Genco comes out of his office, sees Bill on his way out. DR. GENCO Uh - excuse me? Where are you - BILL I think Im done here. Thanks for your time and all. DR. GENCO Wait, wait. Youre leaving? BILL Thats not allowed? DR. GENCO Well, uh - you did come to us here voluntarily, so... BILL Now Im volunteering to leave. And leave he does, right out the front door. EXT. ASHLAND INSTITUTE - DAY 00020000031F0001CB43319,Bill tosses several bottles of pills into a trash can, then walks down the driveway toward his car and freedom. EXT. BILLS TRAILER - NIGHT Bills new dwelling is a huge 1950s Silverfish trailer, parked in an overgrown field at the end of a long dirt road. An abandoned house, not much more than a shack, crumbles nearby. The Impala is gone, replaced by a new Corvair in the driveway. BILL (V/O) There are reports city police pig cops are closing in on me - but Im crackproof. What is the price tag now? INT. BILLS TRAILER - NIGHT Inside, the trailer is packed to the ceiling with boxes and junk from Bills basement lair: the books, magazines and newspapers, records, posters, weapons. The TV, stereo and movie projector. On one wall, a large map of the Bay Area has a black Z drawn 0002000003400001CE5C33A,over it, connecting the four glorious murder sites. Bill sits at the tiny dinner table, surrounded by file folders of Pete Waverlys Chronicle articles. He is working on a greeting card. Its a childrens Halloween card, featuring a silly dancing skeleton wearing a huge pumpkin. Inside the card, Bill writes in a cross pattern: SLAVES crossed with PARADICE, then BY FIRE, BY GUN, BY KNIFE, BY ROPE. Then, drawing with Wite-Out, he writes: Peek-A-Boo, You Are Doomed!...then his crossed-circle symbol...then a big Z. BILL Its the time of the season of the witch... He admires the card, and the skeleton dances a little animated jig for Bill, bones rattling, teeth clacking. Bill grins back at it, satisfied. He addresses the envelope: Pete Waverly, S.F. Chronicle, 5th - Mission, S.F. BILL Trick or treat, Pete. 0002000003600001D19635A,INT. WAVERLYS OFFICE - SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE - DAY Pete, at his desk, looks the card over. His face is pale. Toscana and Armitage are there as well. Pete hands the card over to Toscana. Pete lights a cigarette, hands shaking. PETE Ill admit, Im a little freaked out by the thing. TOSCANA He sent it to you personally. I would be too. ARMITAGE Of course we will have to get the handwriting verified, but TOSCANA You got a gun license, right? PETE Yeah, I do. ARMITAGE Id start packing one. TOSCANA Big boy laid low since the Katie James abduction...hmm. Guess he just couldnt stay still. INT. BILLS TRAILER - DAY Bill cant sit still. He paces up and down the trailer, slurping coffee, looking through his files of newspaper articles. Aleister flits around in his fishtank on the table. Beside the tank, Bills H.A.M. radio crackles noise, static. 0002000003370001D4F0331,Bill stops pacing. A yellowed article catches his eye, from the Riverside Press-Enterprise, dated November 1st, 1966. CITY COLLEGE STUDENT FOUND STABBED TO DEATH screams the head-line, above a photo of the smiling, innocent Mary Sue Baker. Bill scans down...until he finds the name Julie Kass: Ms. Kass - a freshman nursing student who came to R.C.C. from Jean, Nevada - counted Ms. Baker among her closest friends... Bill flips to the next page - where there is a photo of Julie. BILL Julie...sweet Julie. You found me, and now Im gonna find you. How does that grab ya, darlin? Bill puts down the file, open to Julie Kass picture, and picks up the phone. He leans in close to Aleisters tank: BILL Nevada, huh? So lets do a little gambling. MONTAGE: Bill makes call after call, searching for Julie Kass 00020000031B0001D821315,current whereabouts. Writing down cities, scratching them out. Saying Hello with hope, then Goodbye with disappointment. Until... BILL Hello, is Julie Kass there? A girls friendly, perky voice is on the other end: ROOMMATE (O/S) Im sorry, shes at work. Instantly, Bill drops his voice to a smooth, seductive purr: BILL Ah, of course. ROOMMATE (O/S) Whos this? BILL Oh, hi, my names Todd. Im an old pal from the R.C.C. days. ROOMMATE (O/S) Hey Todd, Im Suzanne. BILL Hi. Yeah, I was a friend of Julie and Mary Sues? SUZANNE (O/S) Aww, Julie told me about poor Mary Sue. So sad. BILL Yeah. It really was, just god awful ...anyway, I happened to be passing through Stateline and I wanted to - SUZANNE (O/S) Well, Todd, shes at the Sahara. I think working a double shift today. 0002000003640001DB3635E, BILL Thank you very much, Suzanne. I may just surprise her there! He hangs up. Clearly he cannot believe his luck, or his cunning. EXT. BILLS TRAILER - DAY Bill locks the door, walking to his new Corvair carrying his duffel bag. Golden-hour sun bathes Bills land in rich light. BILL You can do it, man. Youve done it before, a million times...in this life and every other. He gets behind the wheel, takes a deep breath. BILL Stay strong. Youre the master. He drops a few tabs of acid, fires up the engine. The car peels out, spraying gravel, down the dirt driveway. EXT. ROUTE 80 EAST/ROUTE 50 EAST - DAY Bill drives the highways east, across Northern California. Now fully tripping on acid, distorted desert images pass before Bills pinwheeling eyes. He shuts his eyes against them, but the drug makes it impossible: theyre swarming inside his head. 00020000031F0001DE94319,Suddenly, two government-model gray sedans pull up on either side of Bills car, with another pushing in directly behind... Bill looks around. To his left, Larch and Lindgren; to his right, Toscana and Armitage. Looming behind: Johnson and Jackson. Bill shuts his eyes, shakes his head to dispel the seething paranoia. The sinister cars vanish. The sun is setting. The deep orange-pink mellows Bill out. BILL Im cool. Im good. Just a Sunday trucker Christian motherfucker... He lets out a long sigh, thinking about all his girls. BILL Help me, ladies. You made me who I am...give me the strength. Night has fallen. Crossing the Nevada border... A majestically tacky neon sign looms up in the mountainous distance: SAHARA HOTEL. EXT. SAHARA HOTEL/PARKING LOT - NIGHT October 30th, 1970 00020000035A0001E1AD354,Bills Corvair pulls into the parking lot, parking within sight of the main entrance. The ignition cuts out, headlights off. INT. BILLS CAR - NIGHT Bill, tired and bleary after a long drive, checks his watch - its about 1:55 AM. He pulls out the news article with Julies photo, and studies her face for a moment... BILL Four years to the day - you can do it. Just one more time. At that moment, a sound outside, laughter. Womens laughter. Bill glances up: a group of four or five YOUNG WOMEN emerges from the main entrance, all dressed in nurses uniforms. Looking closer, scanning the pretty faces. Nothing...nobody. BILL Come on, sweetie...come on. Out walks Julie Kass. She trails the others, looking exhausted. Shes about 25, dark hair, beautiful indeed. Julie waves goodbye to one co-worker, gets into her car. She drives out of the lot. 0002000003520001E50134C,Bill smiles. He starts his car and slowly follows her. EXT. FERNWOOD APARTMENTS/PARKING LOT - NIGHT The dead-quiet parking lot of a modest little apartment complex in Stateline. Julies car pulls into her slot and parks. Bills Corvair is not far behind. He circles to an unlit area of the lot, parks. He slips out, focused on his target. Julie gets out of her car, tired, sleepy-eyed. She starts walking across the lot, in Bills direction. He casually leans against his car, lights a cigarette. Putting away his lighter, he then pulls out something else. As Julie draws nearer, Bill glances away and around, as if hes expecting someone; theres no one else around at all. Julie passes, giving Bill a sweet little smile. It would melt any mans heart but it turns Bills to stone. Hes dead cold now - ruthless. He reaches for his belt. 0002000003190001E84D313, As Julie walks off... Bill raises a long, gleaming, serrated hunting knife. His sight is on Julies back and whips the knife at her. A perfect throw. Thud. EXT. ROUTE 50/LAKE TAHOE - NIGHT The Corvair drives down Route 50, encircling Lake Tahoe. Bill is alone, serene at the wheel. Outside the car, PUSH IN to the rear bumper a single drop of blood dries on the chrome. EXT. INSPIRATION POINT - TURNOUT - NIGHT The Corvair is parked far off the highway, near Inspiration Point, overlooking Lake Tahoe, spectacular in the crisp moonlight. Bill opens the trunk. Julies dead body is inside, the back of her nurses uniform soaked in blood, her throat savagely slit. He pauses a moment, looking at her, almost shocked at the sight. Then he reaches across her, and pulls out a shovel. 00020000033D0001EB60337,Lit only by the moon and the light from the trunk, Bill selects a spot, takes a deep breath, and starts digging. He casts a glance back into the trunk - and suddenly throws up. Bill is startled - its a violent, throat-shredding purge. He has to hang onto the shovel for support, surging, spraying hot vomit all over himself. Out and out it comes... FADE TO BLACK. INT. BILLS TRAILER - DAY Back home. Bill is pale, unshaven, miserable - looks like he hasnt slept in three days. A discarded issue of the Chronicle headlines the ZODIAC HALLOWEEN THREAT against Pete Waverly. Bill is on the phone, a card from the Sahara Hotel in his hand. The contents of Julie Kass purse are before him. BILL Sahara Hotel? Im calling about Julie Kass. The nurse, right. Uh, she wont be coming back to work. Family emergency. Sorry. 0002000003C40001EE973BE,He quickly hangs up. Stares at Julies things on the table... BILL This is getting way too heavy. He pops a couple pills, some new anti-psychotic medication. BILL I guess...maybe its slipping away. I dont know what happened...just lost my focus, huh? He glances over Julies personal items: keys, lipstick, tampon, compact. A pack of Juicy Fruit. Bill unwraps a piece, chews it. Then Bill spits out the gum, grimacing. He looks nauseous. BILL The thrill is gone... He picks through her wallet, pulls out a small snapshot photo, of Julie and a young man. He stares at their beaming faces... An obscure British pop song is playing on the radio. The chorus repeats: Can you hear them living - you see them living - you feel them living? The song rises in volume, insistent, as... The awful noises of Julies murder fade in: her struggle, her muffled screams. The plunge of Bills knife. The gurgling of blood from her mouth. Julies final, weak breath... 0002000003480001F255342,Bill drops the photo. His face is even paler, perspiring now. BILL ...way too heavy. What is he feeling? Not remorse never. But perhaps...guilt? EXT. BILLS TRAILER - NIGHT The dead of night. Bill is outside the trailer, pacing. On the dirt road out front, four big cardboard boxes sit together in a square. Bill has drawn, in the dirt, a large crossed-circle symbol surrounding the boxes. Inside one box, Bills old executioners hood from Lake Berryessa sticks out. A crumpled movie poster, a star map, books, magazines, everything that had served to make Bills basement room his home. Liquid is squirted over the boxes, the papers and books lighter fluid. Bill strikes a match, lights a cigarette. He drops the match. An instant bonfire. He stands back and watches his things, his glorious, murderous past, go up in flames. 00020000033C0001F597336,He glances up at the moon, big, bright and full. And silent. BILL Fuck the moon. Fuck the slaves, fuck Paradise fuck it all. EXT. SEASIDE CLIFF - NIGHT Bill stands on the very edge of the cliff, the dead-black ocean churning up foam far below... BILL They wont take me out. Not me. Ill take myself out, if I want. He removes his Swiss-made Zodiac watch. Checks the time in the full moons reflection. He lilts a line from The Mikado: BILL He plunged himself into the billowy wave - and an echo arose from the suicides grave... Bill tosses the watch down into the ocean waves. He bends over the cliffs edge, looking straight down into the boiling sea. He closes his eyes, standing there, as close to the edge as can be, wavering, trying to make the big decision... He steps back. He cant do it, not now not yet. 0002000003310001F8CD32B,INT. BILLS TRAILER - DAY The trailer is much roomier now - all the junk, the detritus of Bills lonely life, is gone. He sits at the table, working on one last special card...with one last letter brewing away in his mind: BILL (V/O) Like I have always said - I am crack-proof. If the blue meanies are ever going to catch me, they had best get off their fat asses and do something. This new postcard is an austere black-and-white drawing of snowy hills and cozy winter cabins. Over the image, Bill pastes cut-out words and phrases from the Chronicle: Sierra Club...Peek through the pines...Around in the snow...Pass Lake Tahoe areas...Sought victim 12. BILL (V/O) I give them credit for stumbling across my Riverside activity, but theyre only finding the easy ones. There are a hell of a lot more... 0002000006360001FBF8630,It all makes sense to him. He signs off with the crossed-circle logo, and addresses the other side to Pete Waverly. Then he pours out a shot of Jack Daniels. But as he slams it down, he notices something inside Aleisters fish tank... Aleister is floating belly-up. Dead. Bill lets out a tiny gasp, dropping the shot glass. Tears well up. He swallows hard, closing his eyes. After a moment, he simply...nods. INT. K.R.O.N. NEWS STUDIO - NIGHT (ON TV) Pete Waverly appears on the nightly news, a filmed interview in which he directly addresses Zodiacs personal threat on his life. Pete even displays the holstered .38 hes carrying: PETE I think Zodiac is a has-been. He seems to have lost his nerve and ...well, given up. INTERVIEWER We can all rest easy, then? PETE I didnt say that. He still has to be caught. But he can no longer command attention - he hasnt claimed credit for a specific murder in over a year. Since then weve seen nothing but rambling diatribes, insane boasts and empty threats. I dont buy it anymore, and Im certainly not afraid of the guy. Hes a coward. INT. CHARING CROSS PUB - NIGHT PULL OUT from the TV interview... To Bill as he quietly sits alone in a far corner, watching the TV, nursing a beer. He blushes, wounded by Waverlys televised rant against him. BILL (to himself) I wouldnt be afraid of me either. A DRUNK sitting at the bar yells out to the BARTENDER: DRUNK Turn that crap off, willya? Put on the Giants game already! Everyone around loudly agrees. To their relief, the bartender changes the channel. An ad for Dirty Harry is on. 0002000003440002022833E,Bill keeps his head down, trying to read the Chronicle. He finds his horoscope Sagittarius - which simply states: It is over, and you know it. Now give up and move on. Bill drops the paper, gets up, walks over to a phone booth in the corner. He closes himself in, drops a dime, dials: BILL Pete? Zodiac. Lets get one last thing straight now - you, Toscana, the city pigs, the cops in Vallejo, the Feds, the Company...just give it up. Cause you will never, ever catch me. I fought the law and the law lost. Dig? The law fucking lost. So I got news for you: its over! He slams down the phone, his face crimson with fury. INT. BILLS TRAILER - MORNING Bill sits up in shock, almost dropping the paper. CLOSE ON the mornings Vallejo Times-Herald, the movie section: an ad for a drive-in B picture called...The Zodiac Killer! 00020000037700020566371,Bill takes a slug of coffee, then looks closer at the ad. The tag line for the Zodiac Killer movie blasts: Who Is He...What Is He...When Is He Going To Strike Again? Bill cant believe his eyes. A movie! A movie about him! For a moment, he actually looks happy to be alive. EXT. VALLEJO DRIVE-IN THEATRE - NIGHT The lighted marquee outside displays two titles: DIRTY HARRY and, below it, THE ZODIAC KILLER. Bill had his date with Danielle Fairfield at this same drive-in. The place is filled with cars, a big Friday night crowd. Bill sits in the Corvair, munching popcorn. The vast outdoor screen flickers with light. He sits forward, face eager with anticipation for his movie. The Zodiac Killer feature begins, the title graphic over a cross of blood. Bill smiles at this. Later, theres a close-up shot of the Killer loading up his pistol, flashlight taped to it. Good. 000200000357000208D7351,Still, Bills smile is forced. Its already clear that this movie is a piece of crap. The actors are all idiots, and in production terms its semi-professional, inept even by B-movie standards. Bill cant help but watch. After all, its his piece of crap. The murder scene of the Danielle Fairfield character is good and bloody, at least. Later, the Toscana character shouts: Dammit, dammit! Not one single print! No license number, and half a description...just senseless killings, no visible motive and the same M.O. BILL You got that right, pal. Still later, the Waverly character reads a Zodiac letter to Toscana: Dear Editor, I am the killer of the two teenagers last Christmas... BILL Oh, that was a good one. The Waverly character finishes the letter, laughably exclaiming Its madness! Its total madness! Bill does laugh. But soon, 00020000036500020C2835F,some old man is running around, shooting and yelling The Zodiac, thats me! I am the Zodiac! Bill hangs his head, depressed. The re-enactment of the Lake Berryessa murders - Bills finest hour - is appallingly cheesy. The Katie James abduction ends with the Zodiac character slamming a car hood on her head! BILL Oh god, no. This is all wrong. Bill looks around. The MOVIEGOERS who are managing to watch are laughing. Most ignore the film, making out, smoking weed. Cars around the edges are pulling out and driving away. Bill can barely look at the screen any longer. Its that awful. The last shot of the film has the Zodiac as a dopey hipster in a pompadour and striped sweater - striding down Hollywood Blvd., boasting in a voiceover monologue: Im still loose, right? What do you expect me to do, turn myself in? Are you kidding? I like what Im doing! 00020000036A00020F87364,The movie ends with a stark warning: THIS IS NOT THE END. Nobody but Bill is left to see it. INT. BILLS TRAILER - NIGHT Bill lies in his little bed. Hes trying to sleep, but its futile. Memories cloud his face memories of his murders. Images of the girls light up the darkness. Their angelic faces flutter in and out, like magazine cover girls, smiling, winking, licking their ripe full lips: Mary Sue, Betsy Lynn, Danielle, Julie Kass and dearest Delia, at Lake Berryessa. The peak moment of Bills illustrious career... Bills memories grow clouded. Images from that terrible drive-in depiction of Delias murder keep intruding. INTERCUT moments, flashes of Lake Berryessa, of Bill reveling in taking Delias life, with the phony reenactment from The Zodiac Killer the lousy acting, the shaky camerawork, the cheap executioners costume...the fake blood. 00020000036D000212EB367,Bills face is twisted in pain. He cant sort out his reality from the movies fakery. His memories have been stolen. Gone. BILL Where are my slaves now? Wheres Paradise...? sLOW DISSOLVE TO: INT. WAVERLYS OFFICE - SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE - NIGHT Waverly and Toscana sit across from each other at Petes desk, drinking beers. The desk is littered with empty bottles. They pore over Zodiacs last postcard, alluding to the distant murder of one Julie Kass. Both men have frustration, exasperation, despair all over their haggard faces. And both men wear buttons reading: I Am NOT Pete Waverly. TOSCANA How are we gonna catch this son of a bitch? PETE How the hell are we ever gonna find him? The trails getting colder by the minute. TOSCANA All weve ever come up with is that the guys into astrology, old movies, Gilbert & Sullivan and killing people. Thats it. 00020000041900021652413,PETE I keep waiting for him to pop up, make a stupid mistake, some cry for help...nothing. TOSCANA Did he get sacred off...or killed out? Or did he just quit? PETE Maybe hes still at it somewhere - but hes too goddamn clever for us. TOSCANA No - I cant...give it up. I tell you - its ruining me. Pause - Toscana suddenly looks away, as if hes about to break down in tears. Pete can only let out a long sigh... PETE Looks like he might be the one that got away. TOSCANA Well if thats true, the joke is that no one will ever know his name, his identity. Hell just be anonymous forever... PETE ...the one that got away with it. Toscana hangs his head. Pete just stares out the window. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. TERRYS RESTAURANT - NIGHT Bill sits in the Corvair, outside the diner. Watches all the KIDS, young couples, waitresses and their rowdy boyfriends. One CUTE GIRL catches sight of him in his car. She gives him a friendly little wave. Bill thinks for a second then winks at the girl. He fires up a cigarette, and drives away. 00020000043A00021A65434,EXT. STREET/MAILBOX - NIGHT April 24th, 1978 A CLOSE-UP of Bills hand dropping one last precious letter into the mailbox... FADE TO BLACK. EXT. BILLS TRAILER - DUSK Lights spill out from the shiny trailer; it looks vaguely festive. A new, 1978-model Cadillac is parked alongside. INT. BILLS TRAILER - DUSK Bill sits in a comfy easy chair in the trailer. The place is now clean and neat. The finale from The Mikado plays. Bill sings along: BILL On this subject I pray you be dumb. Your notions, though many, are not worth a penny... Its been six or seven years since his Zodiac days - Bill is nearly forty now. His hair is a bit thinner, but otherwise he looks amazingly well. Hes even lost a good deal of weight. He looks...respectable. Almost like a regular guy, in fact. Bill is flipping through a thick scrapbook, his Zodiac history. BILL The threatened cloud has passed away - and fairly shines the dawning day. In his hand is the same .45 pistol he used in the Lake Berryessa attack. Softly singing, Bill idly flips past newspaper articles, photos, mementos. 00020000032500021E9931F, Charlie Chan at Treasure Island is on TV. Weave in a few clips, lines of Charlie Chans dialogue: Criminal egotist find pleasure in laughing at police...Dr. Zodiac man of great ego, needs to dominate lives of others. Finally, Bill closes the scrapbook. He stares at the gun. Then, Bill picks up his rod and begins cleaning the .45, the old ritual...in and out goes the rod. Theres a copy of his Wanted poster on the wall. He aims at it. BILL Now I know. The fault is not in my stars - but in myself. Bill ponders his image on the Wanted poster. He fondles the gun a while longer, staring into the barrel. Todays issue of the Chronicle lies nearby, featuring a splashy Pete Waverly story - headlined ZODIAC ENDS SILENCE! - about the latest letter from the Zodiac, his first in six long years. 00020000057D000221B8577,Bills voice, no longer sinister, almost amiable now, reads the text of this final Zodiac letter: BILL (V/O) This is the Zodiac speaking. I am back with you...I have always been here. I am waiting for a good movie about me. Who will play me? Bill smiles, a quick, secret little smile. BILL (V/O) I am now in control of all things. Bill, in control, cleans away, sliding the rod into the barrel. Then he stops. He just sits there, fascinated... Staring down into the fathomless depths of his gun barrel. EXT. BILLS TRAILER - NIGHT Bill is visible through a window of the trailer, with his gun. The trailer is dwarfed by the vast night sky, a riot of stars. And above all, the silvery moon, full to bursting. The lights inside the trailer flicker for a moment...then go dead. Blackness. There is only the moonlight now. TWO MEN walk up the dirt road, toward Bills home. Both wear gray trench coats. They exchange a quick glance as they near the trailer... The two men: FBI Special Agents Johnson and Jackson. They both draw their handguns. PUSH IN as the men step up to the trailer door. Johnson knocks. The door swings open. The Mikado finale crescendos. The trailer is empty. Bill is gone. CUT TO BLACK. The Zodiac Killer claimed to have murdered 37 people. He has never been apprehended. On April 1st 2004, the San Francisco Police Department officially closed the unsolved case. 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